


The Voice On the Telephone

by afuckingcastleintheclouds



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Character Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 62,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afuckingcastleintheclouds/pseuds/afuckingcastleintheclouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo is the operator of a Suicide/Depression Hotline and Nico is the boy who calls every night at 3:25 AM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only The Winds

**Author's Note:**

> First story for the Percy Jackson Fandom! The chapter titles are English translations of my favorite songs by Olafur Arnalds and you should follow my tumblr which is the same as my Ao3 pseudonym...

The clock reads 1:50 AM. He runs through a rather pointless red light because there is no other car on the streets; he is sure of it. He runs a hand through his messy curls, but that’s completely out of habit because the wind is messing it up for him anyway. With the windows down in his beat up, red pick-up truck and the cool, night air surrounding him, he always feels relaxed. Well, the most relaxed as he can get. He needs the peace that the open lane gives him at this hour. Not another car in sight; just a few stoplights and flickering signs. All he can hear is the whir of his engine and his tires as they turn a few times. A small smile escapes him and he rests his head on the back of his headrest for a moment, embracing the stillness, embracing his insignificance. Just a boy in a red truck on an empty road in the middle of nowhere.

 

A little bit later, he pulls into the gravelly road. There are a few extra cars there which means Annabeth and Frank are already here. Damnit, he thinks, I’m always last. He glances at the old watch, which he proudly fixed up, on his bony wrist. 1:58. He grabs his lukewarm coffee travel mug and steps out of his truck, hurrying to make it inside as quickly as possible. The brisk, early morning, October air hits him anyway as he fumbles with his keys and stumbles inside. He hangs up his leather jacket in the coatroom and hurries to the large phone-room. An exhausted-looking Piper is the first face he sees. He waves to Annabeth, who is adding sugar to her coffee, and Frank on his way over.

 

“Ah, 2:05, Leo,” she teases, “Maybe I should I tell the big boss you’re late again.”

 

Leo grins, “You’d never. Besides, Chiron loves me too much anyways.”

 

Piper stands up from the hard chair and stretches out her arms, “Not _that_ much. And in any case, he loves me more.”

 

Leo plops down in the chair and drums his fingers, “Whatever you say, Piper.”

 

Piper yawns, “Goodnight Leo.” She calls to Annabeth, “I’m leavin’ Annabeth!” and makes her

way over to Frank. “See you later, Frank. Tell Hazel I said hi, okay?”

 

“And you do the same to Jason,” is his response. “Drive safe.”

 

 Just before she leaves the phone-room, Piper smirks, “Leo, you forgot to clock in again, didn’t you?”

 

He groans, “Would you-”

 

“Already done,” she winks before letting the door close.

 

Leo swivels his chair back around and logs into the computer and gets onto the database. He waits for the inevitable message on the computer or the phone’s inevitable ring.

 

 

It’s 2:24 when he gets his first phone call for the evening. He answers immediately and always remembers his training information. It’s a woman; she sounds middle-aged and slightly hysterical.

 

It’s 2:56 when he finishes speaking with her and part of him feels hardened, and yet another part of him feels completely exposed. “Hey,” Annabeth says from her station a few feet away, “You did good, alright?”

 

Leo smiles weakly before taking a sip from his coffee. It’s barely warm and it’s extremely bitter. Black coffee, no sugar and no cream – just how he likes it. He nearly gags but drinks half of the entire cup. “Thanks.”

 

Frank yawns, “Graveyard shift is the best and the worst.”

 

“On the upside, you’re not flooded with calls,” Leo offers.

 

Annabeth finishes, “But on the downside, you’ve got more time in between calls. More time to wonder.”

 

Frank asks her, “How’s Percy doing? Still in college, then?”

 

She nods, “Yeah, he’s still pushing through. He’s going to be a senior in college, actually. I would have been too if I didn’t take a stupid year off-”

 

“Don’t,” Leo shakes his head, “You needed it. And at least you’re doing good with it.”

 

“Same to you,” Annabeth replies, “This year off is good for you too, Leo.”

 

Leo snorts, “Don’t go all maternal on me just because you’re older. ‘Sides, you  know I’m never going to college.”

 

Annabeth shrugs, “A girl can try.”

 

Frank stands up and stretches his arms, “I’m going to the break room to make myself a cup of coffee. Anyone else want anything?”

 

Annabeth nods, “Black coffee, three sugars and two low-fat creams,” while Leo shakes his head. While Frank is out of the room, Annabeth sighs, “You know, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do this when I was your age.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes, “Here we go-”

 

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth half-laughs, “but it’s true. You’re so good at this _job_.”

 

“It’s not a job,” Leo mutters as he adjusts his headpiece.

 

“You’re getting paid, so it’s a job.”

 

Leo gives her a look, “You know what I mean, Annabeth.”

 

Annabeth glances toward her own phone, “Right.” At that moment, her phone rings and Leo’s only company is her melodic voice. He isn’t listening to the words she’s saying but her tone is so soothing, he could imagine himself falling asleep. Luckily, he gets a message on the computer, to which he responds promptly. Essentially reiterating the conversation he had with the woman on the phone.

 

It’s exactly 3:25 when he gets the phone call. _That_ phone call.

 

He is calm. “Hello, Olympus County Depression and Suicide Hotline.” On the other side of the line, he hears nothing but a few ragged breaths. Other than that, it is silent.

 

“Hello? It’s alright. I’m someone you can talk to. I will listen, I promise.” He hears more ragged breathing and he thinks he maybe hears a sniffle.

 

“You were very strong to call us right now,” Leo continues, “And smart. Because I can help you get through this; I’ll do my best. But I need to know what’s going on. Do you think you could tell me what’s going on, please?” There’s no more ragged breathing. Instead, the shallow breaths are more regular, as though the caller is calming down. Leo hears a cough, or a throat clearing.

 

There is a moment of complete silence and Leo prompts again, “Hello?”

 

For another moment, while the world hangs in a delicate balance, there is silence. No breathing, no coughing, nothing at all. Then finally, like the piercing screams of an abandoned baby bird which interrupts the stillness of dawn, the voice on the other end of line speaks. “I’m scared,” he confides urgently.

 

Leo continues, adrenaline pumping and heart beating, “What are you scared of? Can you tell me?”

 

The boy on the other end is silent again but Leo can hear his shallow breaths. This time, Leo doesn’t get a chance to press the boy again for an answer. The boy on the other end of the line whimpers, “’M scared of...of…” Leo doesn’t hear anything for a solid ten seconds before the boy speaks again. He is resigned and terrified, “I’m scared of me.”

 

The line clicks dead. 


	2. The Air is Suddenly Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air is suddenly cold in Leo's lungs as he talks to the boy at 3:25 once again.

Leo hears the static in his headpiece. He feels like you do when you try to breathe underwater. His lips are slightly parted as he tears off his headpiece. His eyes rest on his coffee cup for a moment and for a fleeting moment, he thinks that he doesn’t need that coffee anymore because he is wide awake now. Fuck, he thinks to himself, as he scratches the back of his neck. _Fuck,_ he thinks a moment later because he hates not knowing. Usually, he gets a little more information with the callers. At least a _name_ so he can log it into the computer. His movements are automatic, robotic as he types in, ‘Unknown Caller’ into the name box. He types in the time of the call and the brief description (and his is very brief), hits ENTER and that’s that. Call over. It’s supposed to be all over.

 

Except it’s not over.

 

Not when he makes himself another cup of coffee just so he has something else to do. Not when he says goodnight to Annabeth and Frank at 6 AM. Not when he drives his red pick-up truck home and certainly not when he lies in his bed. He is usually really good about the calls he gets. This isn’t the first unknown caller; this isn’t the first time someone has hung up on him; this isn’t the first time he’s had a brief conversation. He blinks, unfocused eyes on the ceiling. It’s that damn voice, he thinks to himself. It just sounded so young; the kid was probably his age.

 

Leo shifts from his back to his shoulder because it’s 7:30 AM and he has to work at the Auto Shop in three hours.

 

 

 

 

The boy doesn’t call again that night and Leo doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

 

Leo doesn’t think about the boy; he _can’t_. He can’t afford to wonder whether the kid is in school, a hospital, or in a coffin at the current moment. So, he pushes the phone call into the back of his mind and he gets on with his life for the most part. Wake up. Auto Shop.Sleep. Food. Visit his _Tita._ Sleep. Food. Crisis Center. He thought a year off would give him freedom and yet his life is as routine as a 35 year old accountant.

 

The calls at the crisis center differ a lot, on any given day. There are quite a lot of people dealing with grief, a few high risk, some generally lonely people, and he gets asked for sex at least once a day. At _least_ once. His training, of course, forbids any type of relation between an operator and a caller but Leo doesn’t think he’d want to have sex with most of the people that call, anyway.

 

 

3:15. Leo stretches his arms above his head, yawning. “Do you think I’d get in trouble if I went to sleep right now?” 

 

Annabeth shrugs, “As long as you don’t miss a call. You know what the big man always says: An Unanswered Call Is an Unsaved Life.” 

 

Frank smirks, “That sounds like Jesus Church slogan or something.”

 

“Tell Chiron that,” Leo retorts.

 

Annabeth winces as she sips her coffee, “Also, tell him that it’s 2013 and we need a better coffeemaker.”

 

“We _had_  a nice one before,” Frank pouts, “Before Percy broke it.”

 

Annabeth defends, “Hey, not his fault! Okay, so Seaweed Brain has a lot to learn about mechanical devices. He’s not Leo.”

 

Leo grins cockily, “I have a gift,” before knocking over his less-than-a-quarter-full coffee cup onto the keyboard.

 

“Some gift,” Frank snorts as he continues logging his last call onto the computer.

 

“Fuck you, man,” Leo makes a face half-heartedly as he grabs the paper towel roll from the coffee table and mops up the sticky, brown liquid.

 

His station’s phone starts to ring as just as he throws the dampened paper towels into the trash bin, so he actually runs back to seat, nearly tripping over Annabeth’s legs. He doesn’t check the caller ID before sliding his slightly sticky headpiece on. It smells like cheap coffee and utter humiliation.

 

Before he takes the call, he clasps his hands together, collecting his breath for the shortest of moments before accepting the call. “Hello, Olympus County Crisis Center, how can I help you?”

 

There’s labored breathing. “This was a mistake,” a voice mutters. The little hairs on the back of Leo’s neck stand up because he realizes that _it’s him._ It’s the mystery boy again and this time, he’s talking.

 

Leo reassures him, “It was not a mistake. I’m glad that you called me. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“Don’t patronize me,” the voice snaps.

 

Leo looks a little hurt, “I’m not- I mean, I’m sorry. You’re right. Now, is something the matter?”

 

The voice on the other end says nothing. Instead, there is a muffled noise, resembling either a a sniffle or a sob.

 

Leo tries again, “Can you tell me who you are? Please? If anything happens to the call, I want to be able to reach you again, okay?”

 

“You’re the guy from the other night, right?” the small voice on the other end asks.

 

“Yes,” Leo offers reassuringly, “It’s me.” After a moment of deliberation, he adds, “I’m Leo.”

 

There’s silence. And then, “My name is Nico. Nico di Angelo.”

 

Leo cracks a smile. Progress. “So, Nico, what’s bothering you tonight?”

 

There’s muffled noises on the other end and Leo suspects that this kid is definitely crying. When Nico speaks, his voice is thick and crackly, “My family’s dead and I’m alone.”

 

Leo’s blood turns to ice. The colour drains from his face like a switch. He remains calm and keeps his composure, “You’re all alone? How old are you?”

 

Nico blatantly ignores his question, “I just- I _can’t_. I,” Leo hears ragged breathing, “I can’t _do_ this anymore. I’ve got nothing left _in_ me, anymore.” Nico’s voice is trembling and Leo can _hear_ the pain in every word that Nico says.

 

The air is suddenly cold in Leo's lungs. He stiffens, “What do you mean by that?”

 

Leo can hear gasping, shallow breaths from his side of the line. He _knows_ that Nico is bawling hard right now and all he wants to do is comfort this poor, broken kid. He gives Nico time to formulate a response, careful not to make Nico feel pressured.

 

“I d-don’t want to _do_ it anymore.” There’s a pause while Nico finds his voice again, “I _can’t_ do it anymore. Any of it.”

 

Leo feels his throat constrict, “How long have you felt his way?”

 

“I don’t know,” Nico lashes out immediately. Then, he gulps, “Awhile. After Bianca- she was all I had left and it’s – it’s my – it’s all my fault.”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

Nico doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, he chokes out, “N-no. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

 

“Nico-”

 

“I c-can’t _feel_ like that again. No, no, I don’t want – I can’t,” Nico whimpers.

 

Leo stiffens, and while his voice doesn’t harden, he feels more urgent, “Nico, are you thinking of killing yourself tonight?”

 

The only audible reply is Nico’s painful sobs. He manages to mumble in between his tears, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…”

 

“Hey,” Leo insists, “I’m here, okay? I’m here and I’m not leaving you, okay?”

 

“N-need to go now,” Nico manages, “D-don’t want to die– but I h-have to.”

 

Leo nearly pleads, trying to keep his calm, “I know you’re feeling horrible right now; but can we please talk for just thirty more minutes?”

 

Nico’s breathing on the other end suffices as an answer. It also sparks an idea within Leo.

 

“Hey, now, breathe with me, okay? Just take a minute and breathe it all in. Got it? Good, now let it all out. Let everything flow out of you. Let it all go,” Leo instructs patiently.

 

Nico’s breath is noticeably less shallow.

 

Leo asks evenly, “Do you have a plan?”

 

Nico’s voice is thick but relatively steady, “Roof of my apartment building. It’s twelve stories high.”

 

“Are you certain this will work? Have you tried to kill yourself before?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why do you want to kill yourself, really?”

 

Nico gulps, “M’lonely. And it should be me that’s dead, not Bianca. I d-don’t see the point of it all.”

 

“The point of what, sorry?”

 

“Living. Of life. I just – I don’t want to deal with it.”

 

Leo takes a breath, “Nico, I think that you are very brave. You called me during this time and you were right to do so. I also think it must be difficult to make decisions when you feel as badly as you do right now.”

 

Nico sighs, “I just- I just don’t know.”

 

“And that’s okay, to be confused. But maybe it would be a good idea to let me help you make decisions right now? Until you’re not confused,” Leo continues.

 

“How?”

 

“Why don’t we make a strategy together for tonight and tomorrow, okay? What would you usually have done?”

 

Nico hiccups, “I would stay in my apartment and go through her stuff. Sometimes, I just do nothing; I’m about to be evicted.”

 

Leo suggests, “Maybe tomorrow you could do something different? Maybe you could try putting all of Bianca’s things in one place, for example? Keeping yourself organized physically about Bianca could help your mind feel more organized about her. Is that something you think you could do?”

 

“I think so,” Nico sighs. He sounds weak and partly resigned. He adds after a moment, “It’s just- I feel really lonely sometimes, you know?”

 

Leo nods even though Nico can’t see him, “I understand. Tomorrow, a follow-up counselor will check up on you, face-to-face.”

 

“Can it be you?” Nico asks, voice small. “Please?”

Leo’s breath stops in his throat because he knows in his gut that this is about to change things. He is going to say no and Nico will be sad about it, but this is where his duties come to an end. He is Nico’s one-time depression counselor (excluding the first phone call) and that’s it. He’s going to get on with his life. He’s going to take another call. He’s going to take other calls and Nico will be just another log in the computer.

 

“What time would you like me to come over?” is what Leo finds himself saying.

 

He finishes setting up a short-term plan with Nico regarding his actions tonight and the following day. Just as the conversation seems to come to a close, Nico asks, “Could you – could you stay on the line with me, please? I _can’t_ be alone right now.”

 

And again, well aware of what he’s supposed to be saying, Leo can’t help himself. “I’ll stay on with you as long as it takes, Nico.”

 

The smile he can practically _hear_ through the line makes it all worth it. 


	3. The Land of the Nod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo meets Nico for the first time and it is an unforgettable experience for all parties involved

Leo’s breath catches when he looks at it. It’s tall, very tall, but also rather shabby looking. It’s brown, but a dingy brown and the windows (some cracked, some whole) are all crusted with dust and muck. There are a few bushes and plants littered around the apartment complex and Leo briefly wonders that if Nico had not called him last night, would he be seeing Nico’s remains hidden with the pathetic shrubbery. 

 

He checks his watch; it’s exactly 1:22 in the afternoon.

 

In his pocket, there is a lined piece of yellow paper with Nico DiAngelo’s information on it. His fingers play with the creases in the paper, although he already memorized what is on it. It hadn’t been easy, getting his supervisors to okay him coming here; in fact, it had been next to impossible…

 

 

_Leo walked into Chiron’s large office. There were three large telephones attached to the wall and one on his desk. Chiron had a large stack of papers on his desk as he sat tiredly, signing and writing. “Sir?” Leo began._

_Chiron grinned, he always liked Leo, “Leo, what can I do for you today? Isn’t it well past your shift?”_

_Leo took a breath, “Sir, I think I should be the follow-up counselor for Nico DiAngelo today.”_

_Chiron’s smile dropped. He sighed, “Yes, your supervisor Thalia warned me that you went to her too. And she told you_ no _for good reason, Leo. My answer is no as well.”_

_“I just really think that stability, commonality would work best in this particular case! Look, Sir, I talked to him; that gives me an edge,” Leo pressed._

_Chiron’s eyes flashed, “Leo. I said no. You’re letting yourself get involved and that_ cannot _happen. Once an individual becomes too attached or too familiar with anyone other than a trained professional, things can get messy. These people need our help; they’re not in their right state of mind.”_

_Leo sighed, “I just- I think you’re making a mistake. If anything happens, it’s on our hands. Look as much as you hate to admit it, I’m one of your best, uh, person-on-the-telephone-”_

_“Crisis Line Worker? Yes, that’s true, Leo. But have you ever done a follow up before? Have you ever sat with any of these people face to face? Seen their emotions written plain as day? Seen them cry or see them violent? It’s a completely different world out there and you’re not ready for it.”_

_Just at that moment, the door to his office swung open. Thalia, looking panicked, interrupted, “Sir, I’m sorry but Jason isn’t making it in today. They blocked the highway, there’s a major collision and there’s absolutely no way he’ll be out in time for his follow up.”_

_“Do you know who his follow up was?”_

_“Someone named Nico DiAngelo.”_

_Leo’s eyes widened and a faint smile appeared on his face. He could see Chiron visibly turn red. Gruffly, he demanded, “Do we have anyone else? What about you? Or Luke?”_

_Thalia shook her head, “I’ve got mine in fifteen minutes and Luke’s got two today. He won’t have time.”_

_“Dammit,” Chiron muttered, “Dammit.” He looked at Leo, “Okay, kid, you want your chance? Here it is. But I’m warning, do_ not _get more involved or you might not have a job to come back to. These are very serious cases and it requires a higher degree of professionalism.” Looking at Thalia, he instructed, “Go through everything with him please. Procedures, training, tips, and the works.”_

_“Yes, sir,” Thalia grimaced._

_Leo started to head out with Thalia, unable to suppress the triumphant grin he wore. “Wait, Leo,” Chiron called before tossing Leo a small, metal object. Car keys._

_“Sir?” Leo raised an eyebrow._

_“Company car. You didn’t think you’d be driving your ratty old pickup to get there, did you?”_

The car keys jangle in his pocket next to the lined piece of yellow paper. He looks at his watch again; it’s 1:24. Leo wrings his fingers together as he approaches the door of the apartment complex. The stench of the dead roses hits him before he takes a step across the threshold. The lobby is what he expected; rather dingy with a few scattered coffee tables and a brown couch. The lobby attendant looks bored as he reads a novel and stands behind the large, wooden front desk.

 

Leo half-smiles, “Uh, hi. Um, I’m Leo Valdez. With the, uh, crisis prevention center. I’m looking, uh, for, uh, Mr. di Angelo? Room 113?”

 

The lobby attendant blows a bubble with his gum and points his finger down the hallway near the elevator. “Down the hall,” he drawls lazily, without looking up at all.

 

“Thanks,” Leo replies, incredulous. He makes his way down the dark, looming hallway. 

 

_…Room 105…_

 

He drums his fingers along the side of his thigh and checks his watch. There are faded photographs on the wall and the elevator is dusty, but ornately decorated. This place must have looked beautiful back in the day.

 

_…Room 107…_

 

As he passes the elevators, he hears its loud screech. Its roar is the loudest thing he has ever heard as it makes its way through the shaft. He covers his ears and stumbles to the wall in surprise. He catches his breath and squints at the numbers on the doors.

 

_…Room 109…_

 

He rehearses what he is going to say over and over again. _“Hi, my name is Leo. I’m from the Olympus County Crisis Prevention Center. You must be Nico DiAngelo.”_ He drums his fingers against his thigh and checks his watch again. No, he’s not late. It’s 1:28.

 

_…Room 111…_

He turns the corner and there is one more door left waiting for him. He thinks it’s strange that the hallway is arranged as such but now is not the time for architecture. Now is the time for-

 

He can’t even think of an appropriate word to pep himself up.

 

_…Room 113…_

Leo walks closer and glances at his watch. 1:29. He raises his fist to knock on the door and knocks four times because he screwed up the first one. He readjusts his suspenders and wonders if they were a mistake. He is dressed casually, or at least what _he_ considers casual, which means a ratty, white button down folded up to his elbows and cargo pants rolled up to his shin. Leo doesn’t hear anything, so he knocks again and glances at his watch. 1:30.

 

So, Leo waits.

 

And waits.

 

And waits.

 

And w a i t s.

 

Leo is sitting on the floor of the apartment hallway; luckily no one comes this way or else he might have gotten in trouble. He is slouched against the door, his grin long faded and he kind of wants to go home because it has been hours and he didn’t get to visit his grandmother today. He looks at his watch. 2:47. He has made four unanswered phone calls to Nico and none to the crisis center because he _can_ do this.  

 

Then, he hears it. Or rather, them. He hears the soft padding of footsteps. He hears faint music, as though someone is blasting music in a pair of headphones. He hears the jingling of keys and Leo rubs his tired eyes. Leo sees his black Converse first. Then he hears him:

 

“Oh, shit.”

********

Leo doesn’t remember how he pictured Nico in his head, but now that he sees him in person, there is no one else he could attribute the voice on the telephone to. His black Converse match his black skinny jeans. He is wearing a black, aviator jacket and black t-shirt which contrasts with the paleness of his skin. His hair is black and shaggy enough to barely reach his shoulders. His eyes are brown and wide; yet they are steely and guarded. He looks tired and terribly annoyed, with purplish bags beneath his eyes and his pink lips forming a scowl. Leo finally puts a face to the voice and he knows in that instant that something has changed.

*******

Leo stands up immediately and offers a half-smile, “Uh, hi.” He blinks, a little disoriented.

 

Nico doesn’t say anything right away and Leo shifts his weight, trying to get some feeling back into his right leg.

 

Leo clears his throat, “Um, I’m Leo, from-”

 

Nico responds monotonously, “So, you really did stick around.”

 

“Um-”

 

“You’re the guy from the crisis center,” Nico states, certainly, as he tucks his iPod into his pocket. “The one I’ve been talking to.”

 

Leo nods, still offering a pleasant half-smile, “That’s me,” shifts weight to other leg, “I’m here to follow-up.”

 

Nico unlocks the door to his apartment and sighs. He pushes into his apartment, leaving the door open. Leo coughs and hesitates before taking a step toward the interior. The apartment is cleaner than Leo expected. Granted, there are a few McDonalds bags littered across the foyer and kitchen and there are partly empty bottles of beer scattered across the living room. There is a stack of dirty plates in the sink and some takeout containers on the couch. But it’s not completely filthy and Leo realizes it looks vaguely similar to his own house.

 

Leo walks to the large, brown couch where Nico is curled up. His socked feet are up and his arms are hugging his knees. Nico eyes Leo warily as he takes a seat beside him.  

 

“So, Ni-”

 

“Shoes off,” Nico interrupts abruptly. A moment later, he adds, “Sorry, but, no shoes in the house. She hates-” he pauses, “she hate _d_ the scuff marks they leave on the floor.”

 

Leo nods, taking a breath. “No shoes. Got it,” he reaffirms, as he peels off his own worn, combat boots.

 

Nico merely rests his chin on his knees. “So, ask away,” he mumbles.

 

“How old are you, Nico,” Leo asks, pulling out his red notepad and pen.

 

Nico frowns, “Why?”

 

“It’s routine.”

 

“Eighteen,” Nico responds and Leo doesn’t believe him for a second.

 

Leo cocks an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”

 

Nico frowns deeper, “’Course I am.” Leo chuckles before scribbling down Nico’s age. He asks a few more preliminary questions.

 

“Who is your emergency contact?”

 

Nico snorts, “Don’t have one. Not anymore.”

 

Now, it’s Leo’s turn to frown, “Nico, come on. You need an emergency contact so that-”

 

“They’re dead,” Nico replies, stone-faced. He hugs his knees tighter and breaks eye contact with Leo, “They’re all gone.” He lifts his gaze, and plasters on a more peaceful expression, “But I’m fine, you know? Plans and all that.”

 

Leo can feel his heart in his throat, “So no other relatives?”

 

Nico shrugs, “I have my dad’s information. But he walked out on us ages ago.”

 

“It’s something,” Leo responds before he scribbles down Nico’s father’s information.

 

“So, Nico,” Leo begins.

 

“So, Leo,” Nico mocks, a grim smile pressed on his lips.

 

“How are you feeling today?” Leo questions, cringing at his cliché delivery.

 

Nico snorts at that, “Like I won the fucking lottery.”

 

“Nico-”

 

“Leo.”

 

Leo tries to place a reassuring hand on Nico’s knee but he jerks backward, hissing, “Don’t touch me.”

 

Leo bites his lip, “I understand what you’re going through; trust me.”

 

Nico rolls his eyes, “Of course you do. Everybody _understands_.” Nico gets up from the couch and walks to the window.

 

Leo hears Thalia’s voice in his head.

 

_“Stay objective, Leo,” she says. “You are a guide and a counselor, but not a friend.”_

_“What do you mean by that?”_

_She sighs, “No personal anecdotes. No connection over some bond. You like his music? You can comment but that’s it. You are his not his friend, Leo. Remember that. Stay objective.”_

He can hear her voice, plain as day, ringing in his head. He has to be a counselor, a follow up officer and that’s it. No personal connection.

 

So, naturally, he blurts out, “I haven’t seen by dad since I was born, my mom’s dead, and my grandmother is lying in a hospital bed as we speak.”

 

Nico turns around, his brown eyes widening. “What?”

 

Leo goes on, “I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re angry, aren’t you. You’re impossibly angry at her and at me. But mostly-”

 

“Shut up,” Nico growls.

 

“You’re angry at yourself, aren’t you,” Leo finishes.

 

“I said _shut up!”_

“When you first called me, you were unbearably miserable and you felt completely hopeless. You felt numb. But now you feel, well, tell me how you feel, Nico.”

 

Nico faces the window again. “I was here when they called me. This is where I was standing when they called me into the hospital. She was-” He paused, taking a breath. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”

 

“Yes, yes you do,” Leo presses. Because he sees it in Nico’s eyes. It is a flicker for a fleeting second, but he sees it in Nico’s eyes. “Nico, I just want to help. But you can’t keep everything locked away in that head of yours.” He stands up, slowly making his way to the window, the green notepad strewn aside.

 

Nico’s eyes are shut but he is shaking as he clutches the ledge of the windowsill. His lip quivers and he can feel his throat closing up and he hates himself because he said he was done crying.

 

“Nico,” Leo says gently, “what do you feel?”

“I want to break something,” Nico whispers. Louder, he repeats, “I want to break something. I want to, I need to-”

 

“So, break something,” instructs Leo.

 

Nico grabs the nearest thing he can; it’s a snow globe of Washington DC that Bianca bought him right after their mother died.

 

 _Mom. Bianca._ He grips it between his long fingers and smashes it against the window. It doesn’t break until the third hit.

 

 _Bianca. Bianca,_ that’s all he hears in his head.

 

The glass crumbles to pieces. The liquid from the snow globe flows against the window and mixes with the blood that gushes from his hand.

 

 _“Love you, little brother,” she says to him before he goes out._ He watches as the ceramic buildings are crushed to nothing and ricochet around the room.

 

 _Bianca. Mom. Bianca ._ He throws the snow globe aside, bits of confetti and liquid are splashed around the living area. He grabs the first book off the bookshelf and tears the pages out. It’s harder than he thinks because the binding is strong.

 

 _Dad. Bianca. Dad._ He rips pages out at a time, scattering them around him like it is a party. He tastes metal in his mouth before he hurls the book at the measly entertainment center.

 

 _Everyone is gone. Everyone’s left._ He can’t see anything anymore because everything is blurry. He looks for something, _anything,_ else to transfer his pain. So, his fist hits the concrete wall and blinding hot pain aches throughout his entire arm. But it feels therapeutic. Maybe this is what he needed this entire time. His throat is dry and he doesn’t know the reason. All he knows is that he knows what he is feeling now and he feels so-

 

“Nico,” a voice asks gently. He can feel himself being pulled back into the world. “Nico?” He had forgotten there was someone else in the room. “Nico,” the voice breathes before two arms engulf him.

 

Part of Nico is aware that he is embarrassing himself in front of a boy he barely knows but his mind is racing, barely registering this fact. His body works on its own as they grip Leo tighter and whisper into his ear. “Angry. I am so _fucking_ angry and I can’t control it.”

 

 

Nico hadn’t realized he was sobbing until Leo’s shirt feels damp beneath him.

 

Leo murmurs sweet reassurances into Nico’s ear. Things like, “You did good; I’m here, I’m here; I’m not leaving you, Nico.”

 

Nico’s brain catches up to his mouth and he realizes he’s been mumbling things like, “You can’t leave me.” It takes him a moment to grasp that it’s not all nonsense.

 

*******

“Ouch,” Nico groans as Leo presses the hydrogen peroxide-soaked cloth to Leo’s knuckles. He’s sitting on the counter in the bathroom.

 

“Sorry,” Leo apologizes as he gets the gauze to wrap Nico’s hand. “You, uh, fucked up your hand pretty bad there.”

 

Nico laughs dryly, “Looks I had a full scale, cliché as hell mental breakdown.”

 

Leo responds, "I wouldn't quite say cliché," and leaves it as that.

 

“M’sorry,” Nico murmurs. His eyes are still red but it's been about an hour since he broke down. He didn't feel angry, so much as he felt tired as hell. But for the first time in a few weeks, Nico didn't feel quite as alone. He wasn't sure if it was his emotions running or his state of vulnerability, but as he sat on the bathroom counter, he felt comfortable.

 

“For what?” Leo knits his brows.

 

Nico sighs, “For everything. For being a dick and almost standing you up.”

 

Leo would be lying if he pretends his heart doesn’t pick up the pace. “Nico, it’s fine.”

 

Nico shakes his head, “I didn’t think you’d actually show up. I never thought you would stay. Why did you?”

 

Leo shrugs, “I – I couldn’t just leave.” He looks up at Nico, whose confused gaze is fixed on him. Nico doesn’t answer.

 

As Leo finishes taping up the gauze, he clears his throat, “Well, I think that concludes the follow up, then?”

 

Nico snorts, “I’d say so. When do I see you again?”

 

Leo swallows, “Nico, thing is, I’m not really supposed to be seeing you again.”

 

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

 

 Leo sighs, “The crisis center has clear procedures. I’m not supposed to be seeing you again.”

 

Nico’s face falls, “ _What?”_

 

“Nico-”

 

“You, you said you wouldn’t leave.”

 

“I don’t-”

 

Nico’s voice is small, “Leo, you’re my only, like, friend that I have,” Leo cringes at the word friend because he can hear Thalia in his head, “I don’t, I can’t, you…”

 

“I’m not supposed to see you anymore,” Leo begins carefully, “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t.”

 

Nico lets out an incredulous laugh, pauses as though he’s going to say something, but looks at Leo curiously. Finally, he manages, “You fucking - Thank you.” Hesitantly, he brings his arms around Leo in a hug.

 

Leo murmurs, “You’re cold,” at the same time that Nico murmurs, “You’re warm.”

 

They step away from each other and Leo thinks me might see the faintest touches of pink on Nico’s cheeks but he doesn’t know for sure.

 

All Leo knows, as he leaves Nico’s apartment, is that he has no idea what in the _hell_ he is supposed to write in his follow up report. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment/leave kudos if you like! Also, follow my tumblr: afuckingcastleintheclouds
> 
> I posted this chapter a day early because I'm taking the SATs tomorrow and I knew my brain would be mush tomorrow! Next week should be back to my regular Saturday night schedule (:


	4. Tune for Grandparents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very Leo-centric chapter; seems like filler, but trust me it's not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit 1K today! Thanks so much for your support and love guys! This chapter is a bit lengthy and I know it seems like filler but trust me, it's not. You guys are amazing, keeping commenting and sharing

A little boy stands with his mother in the corner of the elevator opposite Leo. The woman’s eyes are red, yet she holds the boy fiercely by her side. He reaches his arms up to her, eyes pleading and she picks him up by the armpits, adjusting him onto her hip. She kisses his forehead, “Your daddy’s going to be okay, baby, alright?” She ruffles his air and pulls him closer to her neck. Her voice is steady although her lips are trembling. And the little boy can sense this because he pats the back of his mother’s head too.

 

Ding.

                                                                                                     

Leo watches them as they leave the elevator, walking into the ICU. Doctors and nurses rush about. Some are pulling large, gray machines. There are people holding flowers. There’s hustle and bustle and life in the face of death. He walks behind them, but he can tell they’re going to different places. As he walks the familiar route to room 914, it becomes less and less busy.

 

“Leo!” the nurse at the nurse’s station closest to his grandmother’s room cries, “How’re you doin’?”

 

Leo smiles at her, “Good, thanks, Diane. And you?”

 

“Pretty good myself,” she answers as she logs him in. “Dr. Brunswick has some news for you. We were going to call but we knew you’d be in here anyway.”

 

Leo furrows his brow and his heart beats up, “News? What kind of news?”

 

“Well-” she begins, but the phone rings. Her look is apologetic as Leo goes on backburner, so he rushes into his grandmother’s room.

 

There are several vases of flowers. There are exactly 15 cards in her room; Leo’s written one every week. The monitor’s beside his grandmother’s head are exactly as he remembers – a collection of graphs, tests, and numbers that he doesn’t fully comprehend. He understands how the machines generally work, but their computations are a bit advanced, even for him. His grandmother is lying down on the white hospital bed, her great-great grandmother’s colorful blanket spread on top of her. Her eyes are closed, as they have been for the past three months.

 

Leo kisses the side of his grandmother’s face, murmuring, “Hey, _Abuelita_ ,” something he hasn’t called her since he was a little boy. He sits down in the chair beside her. “How are you feeling today?”

 

As usual, there’s no response.

 

“ _Hmph_ ,” Leo smirked, “Well, you look beautiful as always. Have you tried something new with your hair? It looks lovely.” Actually, it desperately needs a cut but Leo knows better than to try and cut his grandmother’s hair. He still wants her to love him when she wakes up, after all.

 

“Me? Well, I’ve been pretty good. At least, I think.” He hesitates before saying, “I made a new, friend. He’s kinda, uh, troubled but I think I can help him. At least I hope so.” He takes his grandmother’s hand, “I don’t know what I’d do if, if something happened to him.” He adds hastily, “On my watch, you know? Because I’m kind of responsible for him. I don’t know, _Abuelita._ See, this is why I need you here. You’d know exactly what to tell me.” He rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. “C’mon, _Abuelita,_ you’ve got to wake up.” He thinks he feels her hand twitch in his for a moment, but then it is gone and her hand is lifeless again.

 

There are no other sounds but the steady ‘beep, beep’ of the heart monitor and the whirs of the hospital machines.

 

Leo drops her hand and sighs. He reaches into his beat up carpenter’s bag and pulls out one of his grandmother’s favorite Mexican Fairy Tales. “ _Hace mucho tiempo había una reina tan hermosa_ …”

 

 

 

He is jerked from his slumber when he feels a touch on his shoulder. He shoots up, gangly arms and legs flailing. The book slides off of his stomach. His face feels warm as Dr. Brunswick merely chuckles. “Sorry about that, Leo. We had some rather urgent news.”

 

His voice is thick with sleep, “Nah, nah, it’s alright,” as he stretches out. He yawns before rubbing his eyes, “Diane said you had news for me? Is it – well, is it good?”

 

“Leo,” the doctor begins, “take your grandmother’s hand.” Leo raises an eyebrow, but gingerly holds his _abuela’s_ hand. “Now, tell her to squeeze it.”

 

“ _Abuelita,_ ”Leo instructs, “hold my hand, please.”

 

And he feels that twitch again; but it is stronger this time. Her red-painted fingers clutch his hand for a brief second before relaxing. Leo’s eyes widen, “What does that mean?”

 

Dr. Brunswick grins, “It means that your grandmother may be waking up soon.”

 

Leo’s jaw goes slack, “Are you serious? When? How?”

 

Dr. Brunswick smiles at Leo’s excitement, “We first noticed that your grandmother was returning to a regular sleep-wake cycle last Monday. However, we had to run some tests before we could confirm anything. Now, it won’t happen all at once and we don’t know _when_ or even _if_ your grandmother will wake up. However, these behaviors are highly suggestive of a possible reemergence from a coma.”

 

“But it’s possible, right?” Leo demands, “She _can_ wake up.”

 

Dr. Brunswick nods solemnly, “Yes, it can be done. But realistically, Leo, your grandmother’s health and age are risk factors. You need to be prepared in case she never wakes up. I understand you are underage?”

 

Leo sighs, “Barely. I turn eighteen real soon, Doc.”

 

Dr. Brunswick frowns at him, “Even so, you are still underage and protocol is set. Is there a family member who would be able to take you in if your grandmother progresses to a vegetative state?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got some cousins in New York, but they don’t really-”

 

“Perfect,” Dr. Brunswick states as he scribbles something in his chart. “And Leo, we really are happy about your grandmother.”

 

“Thanks,” Leo grins genuinely as he faces his grandmother again. Suddenly, he imagines her waking up once again – with vivacity in her voice and a flush in her face. He tries to tuck a piece of uneven hair back but it springs back with energy, coiling against her temple. He places a kiss on her forehead, “See you soon, _Abuelita.”_

He tucks the book into his bag and heads out of the patient room because he needs to catch his shift at the Auto Shop. He doesn’t see his grandmother’s head turn to face the door as he leaves, eyes closed shut.

 

 

 

 

Leo feels his wavy, shaggy brown hair cling to the back of his neck. Beads of sweat crawl down his face as he loosens the oil plug and removes the gasket. Thick, black oil sloshes into the metal pan and Leo makes sure the plug doesn’t fall in. Fishing it out is always a bitch. He grunts and grits his teeth harder. He tries to finger out the oil filter but he can’t and he knows he’s running out of time.

 

“Come on, Leo,” Nyssa taunts, “Charlie’s already got the filter out.”

 

“Fuck off,” Leo mutters, and he’s not entirely sure if she’s heard him.

 

Leo rolls his eyes and resigns to using his wrench to get the filter off, his orange jumpsuit sticking to his white t-shirt sticking to his skin, and drains the oil from the filter into the drain pan. He puts in in newspaper and sets it to side, before twisting open a new bottle of oil and grabbing a new filter.

 

“Come _on,_ Charlie!” Jake Mason cries from the other side. Leo groans and wets the new gasket with his freshly oil-coated finger.

 

He hears Charlie shout, “Pass me my damn funnel, Jake. NO- no, the other-”

 

Leo screws the new filter in place, waiting until he can feel that it fits snugly. He waits for all the oil to drain out before wiping around the place for the plug. He places the new gasket before screwing on the oil drain plug.

 

“Come on, Leo,” calls Shane, “You got this.”

 

Leo rolls out from under the car, “Funnel!”

 

Shane tosses him the plastic funnel before Leo examines the open hood, finding the filler hole. He sees Charlie from the corner of his eye, already pouring the oil through the funnel, so he grabs his oil as well. The oil needs time to run through, so he pours it slowly, eyes darting from his own funnel to Charlie. “C’mon, you stupid oil can, _go!_ ”

 

Finally, he sets his oil can aside and twists the cap back on the filler hole. He dashes to the driver’s seat and thrusts the engine on. His fingers tap anxiously on the wheel for thirty seconds exactly before he goes to check the leakage from the plug. He grins when he sees there’s no leaking. He grins even wider when he hears Beckendorf curse loudly.

 

Leo turns off the engine and waits a few minutes for the oil to settle. He has about five to ten minutes so he checks his phone, even though his hands are covered in grease. He frowns when he sees five missed calls from Annabeth. He dials her number quickly and ducks out of the garage for a moment because Annabeth rarely contacts him outside of work. “Leo!” Shane cries as he sees Leo’s retreating back, “Where ya goin, man? Becks is gonna cream you again if you don’t-”

 

“Becks won’t beat me,” Leo laughs as the phone rings in his ear. He gets a nearly breathless Annabeth.

 

“Leo,” she sighs, relieved, “Thank God.”

 

“Yeah, what’s up? Everything okay?”

 

“Um, kind of. Listen, I know this is your week off but I was wondering if you could cover for me for a couple of days,” she sounds uncertain and hopeful at the same time.

 

Leo shrugs and part of him is admittedly excited. “Yeah, sure,” he replies as though his heart hasn’t sped up a little bit. He blames it on adrenaline.

 

He can almost hear Annabeth smile through the phone, “I owe you one, Leo. Thanks!”

 

He chuckles, “Anytime! But, uh, are you going on vacation or something or what?”

 

“Just, uh, stuff with Percy. Don’t worry about it. Thanks again though,” she answers before hanging up the phone. Admittedly, it’s weird but Leo doesn’t think too much of it before jogging back into the garage. He cleans the dipstick and checks the oil again before adding in the final quart of oil until it’s full. But his mind isn’t in it anymore. He hasn’t seen or heard from Nico di Angelo since what happened in his apartment and he has to admit that he’s worried. As he takes the car on a test drive, his thoughts are on a lonely boy with dark hair. And after he waits for the oil to settle so he can check it again, his thoughts are anything _but_ settled because he can’t pretend he doesn’t want Nico to call him again.

 

He vaguely hears Nyssa declare, “Our winner is….Leo Valdez!” Normally, he’d be ecstatic at winning the Oil Change Challenge but as he fist pumps Charlie and lets him ruffle his hair, his heart is racing and he _knows_ it’s not the adrenaline from winning.

 

*****

It’s 2:03 when he rushes into the Crisis Center. His hair is bit askew and his coffee container is empty as he gets into coatroom. He hangs up his old jacket and pushes open the doors to the phone room. Piper and Jason are already in there; Piper’s on a call and Jason logging information on his computer. Jason smiles as soon as he sees Leo, “My man! I haven’t seen you in a while!”

 

Leo laughs as he sees his best friend, “Dude, I saw you yesterday.”

 

Jason frowns thoughtfully, “It’s 2 in the morning, dammit, don’t judge me.”

 

“Why are you here though?” Leo asks at the same time Piper puts down her phone.

 

“Coffee, babe?” Jason offers her and she smiles half-heartedly.

 

“Thanks, but I’ve got some.”

 

“The same one from an hour ago?”

 

Piper laughs, “Hell no, I’m on cup number three. I hate late night shifts. I don’t know how Annabeth does this all the time.”

 

Jason shakes his head, “Me neither. I’m only pickin’ up the extra shifts because I missed that day last week. Chiron was _pissed_ at me.”

 

Leo gulps as Piper shrugs, “ _C’est la vie.”_ After a moment she adds, “Oh, hey, Leo.” Leo isn’t surprised that she doesn’t know he is there. Those two often go off in their own little world whenever they work together and in all honesty, it’s comforting.

 

“’Sup, Piper,” Leo answers as he logs into the computer. He’s barely finished talking when she returns to a conversation with Jason.

 

 

 

Leo starts to get tired at 3:07. He hangs the phone up after talking with a middle-aged man who just lost his daughter. Piper and Jason are both on calls as he goes to make coffee. He rubs his tired eyes and wishes Annabeth told him earlier about picking up her shift. He yawns as he starts the old coffeemaker. As the coffee brews, his thoughts go back to the middle-aged man. ‘People are kind of like cars,’ he thinks to himself. ‘Sometimes they just need a little oil to work right again.’ The black coffee is piping hot as he pours it into his unwashed coffee container and he gets a little on his thumb. Surprisingly, though, it doesn’t burn as he thinks it will. Or rather, it doesn’t _feel_ as bad as he thinks it will so he just sucks on the angry gash a little to soothe the sting.

 

 He returns to his station and sips from his travel mug. It’s 3:15. He responds to someone in crisis via the internet. He chats with someone who claims to be a young girl in peril for a little bit before she asks if they could send each other pictures and he realizes it’s actually spam.

 

It’s 3:24 and his fingers drum on his work space. He glances up at Piper and Jason who are preoccupied. He’s grateful that Frank and Annabeth, his usual coworkers, aren’t here because their desks are much closer to his. Jason and Piper are on the other side of the room and can barely hear him.

 

Not that he’d need that, or anything. Not like _he’s hoping_ it will come in handy, or something.

 

The clock on his monitor turns 3:25 and the phone doesn’t ring. The second hand on the clock goes past the five, then past the ten, then past the fifteen and there isn’t a call. Leo’s heart sinks for a moment and he chides himself. Perhaps Nico _is_ doing better. That’s what he wanted, right? That’s what was supposed to happen? Maybe Nico wasn’t calling for a reason. Maybe he didn’t need him anymore. Maybe-

 

Leo’s thoughts are cut short by the shrill ring of the telephone. He glances to the clock and the second hand is approaching the 10. He licks his lips as adrenaline kicks in and his fingers tap before picking up the phone.

 

Instantly, he’s calm. He’s in control. He’s ready. “Hello, Olympus County Crisis-”

 

“Leo?” he hears Nico di Angelo say. “It’s me, Nico.”

 

Leo feels his lips tug upwards uncontrollably, “Hey, Nico. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

 

Nico pauses, “I, uh, I thought I freaked you out a little.”

 

“Told you I’d be here,” Leo says, earnestly. Nico doesn’t say anything right away, “So, how are you feeling tonight?”

 

Nico sighs, “Can we just, can we just _talk?_ ”

 

“Nico, why did you call tonight?”

 

There’s silence for a moment. “I guess, uh, I, um, I think I just missed, uh, talking to you.” He says the last part quickly and Leo barely hears him. But when his brain registers it, that simple, broken sentence is the best thing he’s heard in years.

 

Leo grins widely, asks a question that’s been on his mind for a while, “How’d you know you’d get me tonight?”

 

He can tell Nico is glad for the segue. Nico chuckles dryly, “You’ll laugh.”

 

“Swear I won’t.”

 

“Um, I figured for some godawful reason that if I called at the same time, eventually I’d get you?”

 

“That’s genius.”

 

Nico chuckles dryly again. They talk about a few things aimlessly – mostly what they’ve done that day. Nico tells Leo about what he’s done that day and what he’s planning to do tomorrow and Leo talks about his day too. He conveniently doesn’t mention his grandmother. They talk about everything and nothing at the same time. There’s a slight lull in the conversation after they finish talking about how stupid it is that they’re building a new mall over Persephone Park. After a moment, Nico adds, “Oh, my hand’s all better now.”

 

“No more bruised knuckles?”

 

“Nah, but it _did_ freak out my landlord for a few days. I swear thought I was in a secret fight club or something.”

 

Leo laughs, “Good. No offense but your lobby attendant sort of sucks.”

 

“Sort of?” Nico snorts, “I lost my key once and it took him _two hours_ to open his drawer and let me into my room.”

 

“Two hours? What the h-what do you even do for two hours in your apartment building? I fell asleep there just waiting for you.”

 

“Well, I left to go ride my motorcycle for-”

 

“Hold up, you’ve got a motorcycle?” Leo raises his eyebrows.

 

Nico hesitates, “Well, I _had_ a motorcycle. I wrecked it.”

 

“I’ll fix it,” Leo blurts out before he knows what he’s saying. He repeats, confidently, “I can fix your motorcycle.”

 

“What? I can’t afford for you to-”

 

“Fuck the cost,” Leo answers and he realizes that this is the first time he’s sworn over the phone.

 

Nico is suddenly suspicious, “Really? You’d do that for me?”

 

Leo’s lips twitch, “That’s what friends are for, right?” and his heart if fucking _pounding_ in his ribcage.

 

Even though Nico is miles away, Leo can basically see the expression on Nico’s face. He’s probably frowning, cheeks flushed pink and lips pulled into a confused pout.

 

Leo adds, “I said I wouldn’t leave, remember?”

 

Nico mutters, “Thought it was a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

 

“Unless of course, you don’t want me to-”

 

“No!” Nico protests immediately. “No, I mean, um, I want you to come over. So, you know, you can fix it.”

 

Leo can tell he’s flustered so he says, “Did I mention I was a mechanic?”

 

“I think you missed that detail.” Nico pauses, “Really though, thanks.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Leo answers, fingers tapping. “I’ll see you Saturday?”

 

“At noon,” Nico continues and Leo knows there’s a small smile on his face. “Bye, Leo.”

 

“Bye, Nico.”

 

But Nico doesn’t hang up the phone and neither does Leo because they can both hear each other’s breathing for a minute. Leo chuckles, “Well, that’s awkward.”

 

Nico quips, “By calling it awkward, you just made it awkward.”

 

“Point taken.”

 

Nico sighs, but it doesn’t seem that heavy or exasperated. It’s the kind of sigh you do when your best friend tells a horrendous joke on purpose. It’s a little annoyed but it’s mostly not annoyed. “Um, so good night then?”

 

 “Goodnight, Nico,” Leo replies and he hears the click as Nico hangs up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me on tumblr at afuckingcastleintheclouds.tumblr.com


	5. This Place is a Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo fixes both Nico and his motorcycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early (kind of). Thank you all so much for your kind words and patience. I really appreciate it <3

Like clockwork, Nico calls him at 3:25 am every night. It’s a silent, understood agreement between them. Leo is grateful that he’s picked up Annabeth’s shift this week because Piper and Jason make things easy for him. And part of him feels a bit guilty as he whispers secret words into Nico’s ears during the early hours of the morning. But most of him feels giddy with elation. He can _feel_ the stupid grin he gets on his face at3:24 as the second hand _tic-tic-tics_ closer to the twelve. He presses the phone to his ear before it rings a second time, breathing, “Nico?”

 

And when he hears that familiar voice on the other end of line, that stupid grin stretches even wider. There’s a small change in Nico’s voice as of late. It’s very miniscule and Leo can barely put his finger on it. But on Friday night, when Nico says, “So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Leo hears something underneath his voice. A hint of something. Something that makes Leo think that maybe Nico isn’t as broken as he was before.

 

 

 

 

Leo isn’t exactly _self-conscious_ as he sits in his pick-up truck. Since it’s light out, he unfortunately has to abide by the traffic signals. The day is surprisingly nice outside; it’s warm enough that he can keep his windows rolled down and let the wind disgrace his hair. He glances at his reflection in the mirror, not exactly pleased but not disappointed either. His eyes linger for a moment on his elfish features (especially his goddamn ears) before ruffling his curly-wavy hair to cover the tips.

 

When he pulls up to Olympus Apartments, he is surprised to see Nico outside already. He’s wearing that aviator jacket again, black jeans, a dark grey t-shirt, and black boots which Leo finds a bit odd given the relatively nice weather. Then again, he realizes as he steps out his pickup truck, he’s wearing an army jacket, white t-shirt, and dark jeans with combat boots too. He still has his suspenders on, clipped onto his jeans. He flashes a grin, “Nico.”

 

“Leo,” Nico repeats placidly but his pink lips are twitching upwards at the corners.

 

A smirk is splayed across Leo’s face, “I’m surprised. You’re actually waiting for _me_ this time. To what do I owe the honor.”

 

A familiar scowl settles upon Nico’s face and Leo kind of hates himself for ruining the moment. So, he clasps his hands together, tearing his eyes away from Nico’s, “So, let’s see this bad boy.”

 

Nico wrinkles his nose but doesn’t reply. He motions for Leo to follow him as they head around to the back of the apartment building. “So, uh,” Leo begins, “How’d you wreck it?”

 

Nico hesitates, “Accident. Ran into a tree or something.” He pauses for a moment, “Got pretty scratched up myself, actually.”

 

Leo adds grimly, “I’ve had my fair share of hospitals, too.”

 

Nico glances at him, “Yeah, you look like you’ve broken a few bones in your life.”

 

“Wait, really?” Leo is pulled from his thoughts, “Most people don’t think I’m really the fighting type-”

 

“Oh you’re not,” Nico is quick to point out, “You’re scrawny as hell. You know, I just meant that you’ve probably been pounded on?”

 

Leo’s voice is flat, “Thanks.”

 

Nico doesn’t apologize but chuckles sourly beneath his breath.  “Here we are.”

 

They stop in front of a heap of machinery. Leo whistles, “Damn, you really did a number on this thing.” He bends down, examining it closer. There are bloodstains all over it, mixed with dirt and muck. Leo frowns, “What did you say happened?”

 

“I didn’t,” Nico replies instantly, his voice is steely and guarded. “It was just an accident.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Leo answers, but he’s definitely skeptical. He lifts some pieces around and assesses the damage. “Well, I think I could fix the damage.”

 

Nico’s eyes don’t meet his as he asks, “Um, so how much do I owe you for this?”

 

“I meant what I said, Nico,” Leo furrows his brow, “don’t you worry your pretty, little head over it. I’ve got this, okay?”

 

Nico finally meets Leo’s eyes, “You know, you care an awful lot about m– my bike.”

 

Holding Nico’s gaze is tricky because his dark eyes are intense. Leo feels a bit overwhelmed, initially, trying to decipher what exactly Nico is asking him. He’s also suddenly aware that even though there is a huge, red motorcycle between them, Nico feels incredibly close to him. It’s momentarily dizzying. Nevertheless, Leo is careful not to falter, “I-I just fix things that are broken.”

 

Nico is immediately defensive, “Who says that I-”

 

He doesn’t finish, leaving the phrase to hang in the air. Instead, he flushes a light pink before clearing his throat, “How long will it take to fix her up?”

 

“Not too long. Couple of days probably,” Leo answers and for some reason, his eyes are interested in the gravel as they walk along, pushing Nico’s motorcycle to Leo’s pickup truck.

 

After they load it into the back of Leo’s truck , Leo clears his throat, “So, uh, I’ll just bring this back here.”

 

An odd expression graces Nico’s features, “Yeah, then. I guess I’ll see you in a few days.” He lingers for a moment, smiling grimly, before turning to enter his apartment building once again.

 

Before Leo knows what is happening, he calls, “Hey, Nico.”

 

Nico turns around tiredly and suddenly Leo knows what look is on Nico’s face. Wistfulness.

 

“Um, did you want to come me or something?”

 

Nico raises an eyebrow, “To fix my motorcycle? Why?”

 

Leo backtracks because _shit,_ maybe he’d read the entire situation wrong. His heart picks up, “I don’t know, I just thought it’d be more fun than staying in that apartment.”

 

Nico stands there in the parking lot indecisive for a moment and even though his lips are pressed in a straight line, Leo can see the beaming smile in Nico’s eyes. “Sure, I guess,” he replies nonchalantly, picking at his thumbnail as he saunters up to Leo’s passenger seat.

 

Looking back, Leo searches for moments in his life that define him. They are pivotal moments, which without them, his life would be drastically different.

 

This was one of those moments.

 

**********

“Alright, now, we’ve got Harley, guy behind the desk; Nyssa is the _best_ diesel engine repairer in the country. Um, over there is Shane,” Leo pauses, “He’s an intern. Christopher and Jake are really good at working with manual transmissions and Charlie is at literally everything. He’s the best auto and diesel mechanic we have.”

 

“And what do you do around here?” Nico asks earnestly as they reach Leo’s designated workstation. He’d been helping Leo wheel it in before they set it up on the worktable.

 

Leo shrugs, “Oh, I’m just-”

 

“Our _actual_ best mechanic,” Nyssa chimes in as she wraps an arm around Leo’s shoulder. Although she offers Nico a warm smile, he glares at her instead. “Leo is the fastest learner and the quickest auto, diesel, motorcycle, whatever-you-bring-in mechanic. Plus, have you seen some of his original sketches.”

 

“No,” Nico replies somewhat sourly and Leo feels guilty for some reason. Leo shrugs off Nyssa’s arm and scratches the back of his neck. While he is trying to be modest, a small part of him is glad that Nyssa can brag for him because he wants to gouge Nico’s reaction. He wants Nico to be impressed by him, at least a little.

 

Nyssa, aware of Nico’s resentment toward her, blushes a little, “Anyway, Leo, who’s your, uh, friend?”

 

Leo clears his throat, “Everyone, this is Nico. Is it cool if he hangs here for a little bit?”

 

“Hell no, get him out of here,” Christopher jokes just as Jake grins, “Yes, we mind a lot.”

 

Harley doesn’t look up from his paperwork, “Just don’t touch anything or else we’re legally responsible. And don’t get hurt. Also, don’t sue because we’re barely keeping this place open.”

 

Nico nods, “Got it,” before he climbs up onto a steady countertop.

 

“It’s fine with me,” Shane offers.

 

“Shut up, intern,” Nyssa smirks.

 

But seeking Charlie’s approval is more important than anyone else’s, so Leo glances at him. Charlie wipes his greasy hands on his dark grey jumpsuit. He looks at Nico, who is holding up his chin with his hands and sitting cross-legged on the counter. Nico offers him an awkward smirk. Charlie chuckles, “Sure, whatever, it’s cool. Just, yeah, don’t touch anything.”

 

 

 

Leo peels off his army jacket and slips into his jumpsuit, but unzips it so that his shirt and suspenders are still exposed. Nico coughs, “So, this is, uh, what you do then?”

 

As Leo starts on Nico’s motorcycle, he nods, “Since I was little.”

 

 Nico makes a face, “A kid in an mechanic shop? Your parents let that happen?”

 

Leo’s face hardens, “Um, well, my dad peaced out when I was born and my mom had to take me everywhere with her. This is where she worked. I would sit there and watch her and one day when I was eight, she let me screw something. She let me start uncapping things, fetching her oil, pouring it in and next thing I know, here I am.”

 

 “She still work here?” Nico questions as he plays with the strings in his jacket.

 

“Actually, she’s dead,” Leo replies and he doesn’t look anywhere but Nico’s motorcycle even though he’s not even holding any tools yet. “When I was ten.” Leo’s face is still hard and his eyes are glazed over as though his mind is in another place.

 

Nico is silent and Leo is grateful that he doesn’t try to apologize or console him. Even though it has been nearly eight years since that day, it is still fresh in Leo’s mind sometimes. He shakes his head and plasters a smile on his face, “Yeah, anyway, it’s something we shared, makes me feel closer to her, blah blah blah.”

 

Nico replies slowly, “This place is nice. It’s like a shelter. Kind of like a family or something.”

 

“You’re right,” Leo notes as he reaches for a wrench. “Anyways, can we move away from the dark shit? I feel like we always end up talking about that.”

 

“Well our first conversation took place on the phone because I was three seconds from offing myself,” Nico answers, face straight. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is and Leo cracks a smile.

 

“If that doesn’t describe our-” Leo hesitates for a brief second. ‘Relationship’ is too strong a word but ‘Friendship’ doesn’t quite describe it. “If that describe us, I don’t know what does.”

 

Nico smiles, as though he can sense Leo’s thought process, “How long is it going to take to fix my bike?”

 

“Why, you’re getting bored of me, already?” Leo fake pouts.

 

“Well, you’re terribly slow,” Nico teases. “And you have an inclination for terribly lame jokes.”

 

Leo looks actually offended. “I just don’t want to make any mistakes,” he lies. He may be working on the bike a little slower than usual because he likes having Nico in the garage with him. “And my jokes are wonderful.”

 

Nico snorts, “Here we go.”

 

A sly smile passes Leo’s lips, “Okay, so what did the carburetor say when – oh wait, shit. I messed that one up-”

 

“Stop,” Nico rolls his eyes, a genuine smile on his face.

 

Leo grins, “I’ll work on them, then, for next time.”

 

“Next time?” Nico raises his eyebrows, “Is this going to be a regular thing?”

 

“It’s not like you’re doing much else, right?” Leo answers and he wonders for a moment if he’s said the wrong thing because Nico looks down at his hands. He is ready to backtrack when Nico responds.

 

“I actually have a powerful realm to rule over,” he blushes a little.

 

“Realm?” Leo knits his eyebrows.

 

“You ever heard of Mythomagica?” Nico says, a touch embarrassed.

 

“The card game? Oh, God, don’t tell me-”

 

“There’s an online component now,” Nico defends, “It’s really legit!”

 

“Isn’t it targeted toward 12 year olds?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“You dork,” Leo laughs fondly.

 

“You…elf,” Nico quips but even _he_ knows it’s lame because he starts laughing when his eyes meet Leo’s.

 

“Elf?”

 

“Yeah,” Nico nods, “because your ears are all pointy at the tips. Like an elf.”

 

“But-”

 

“And you’re like working and building stuff,” Nico adds, “You’re my very own Christmas elf.”

 

Leo pouts and Nico grins and it’s really a lovely sight. Leo responds, “Okay, well then you’re a ghost.”

 

“A ghost?” Nico frowns, “’Cause I’m deathly pale?”

 

Leo cocks his head, “But you’re not a mean ghost. You’re like the nice ones in Harry Potter or something.”

 

Nico scowls, “If I’m going to be a ghost, then at least make a powerful one. I’m about the furthest thing from Casper the friendly ghost.”

 

Leo’s eyes widen, “That’s _perfect_ – you’re Casper the friendly ghost.”

 

Changing the subject, Nico mutters, “Do you ever use this?” as he holds up a black, dusty radio. Each of Leo’s coworkers has a little radio in their respective workstations to listen to music but Leo rarely remembers to turn his on. A song he doesn’t recognize is playing but Nico seems to like it, “You ever listen to Radiohead?”

 

Leo shrugs, “Not really. I’m not really into music that much.”

 

“Everyone’s into music,” Nico counters lazily as though it’s just a fact. Leo glances up, about to argue, when he sees Nico humming ( _humming?)_ to the song, eyes fluttered shut and a peaceful manner about him.

 

Leo doesn’t look up again because he’s starting to focus on the motorcycle on his station. When he gets into his zone, it’s as though everything else is blocked. Machines make sense to him in a way people can’t. At least, not always. He and Nico fall into a comfortable silence because Nico likes the quiet mixed with the music and Leo doesn’t hear anything anyways. Nico likes the way he looks so focused, so intent, so sure of himself as he’s working. It’s not quite arrogance or confidence, but a self-assuredness that Nico admires.

 

Nico decides, today is a _Good_ Day. He realized a few weeks ago that there are Good Days and Bad Days. Good Days are when he feels okay and when he feels kind of like how things were before. Good Days are rare, but they’re saccharine and unexplainable. Good Days feel like the stillness of Christmas morning before mom’s woken up. Bad Days are what he is used to. Bad Days are pain and remembering the bad stuff and how he feels most of the time. Bad Days are slow and tiring and he always feels so weak but angry. Bad Days are running out of air under the waters and not being able to breathe.

 

Truthfully, Nico is glad that Leo brought him here today because it feels like a Good Day and that thought makes him smile again. The muscles in his face hurt because he’s been smiling more as of late and they aren’t used to smiling.

**************

“So, how far’d you get?” Nico wonders at 6 o’clock when Leo mops his forehead with a dirty rag.

 

“Um, decent,” Leo shrugs, as he kicks off his jumpsuit, “Man, I’m tired.”

 

“Sorry,” Nico blurts out.

 

Leo shakes his head, “I told you- don’t worry your pretty, ghostly little head. Now, you hungry?”

 

 

 

Leo drives them to small diner that Nico knows. “I’ll, um, pay. I have some money that, uh, _she_ left,” he insists as they walk in. Leo wants to protest but he’s pretty tired and Nico seems pretty resolute and he’s trying to save his money anyway. When his grandmother wakes up, they’ll have to spend more on groceries and hospital bills so Leo lets Nico pay this time.

 

They get a small booth in the corner of the diner and a woman with lipstick that’s too bright and hair that’s unnaturally dark takes their orders of burgers and French fries. She comes back with Nico’s pomegranate juice and Leo’s Diet Coke after a minute or so because there’s no one else in the restaurant except for an old man at the bar. “So, Nico,” Leo cocks his head.

 

“So, Leo.”

 

Leo smiles shyly, “How old are you actually?”

 

Nico drinks his pomegranate juice from the cup which makes his lips look even redder. “Almost seventeen.”

 

“So, sixteen?”

 

Nico nods his head slowly. “Now, what about you?”

 

“Almost eighteen.”

 

Mocking Leo, Nico says, “So seventeen?”

 

“How come you live by yourself?” Leo asks gently because they’ve never really had this conversation.

 

Nico taps his fingers on the table, “My social worker thinks I’m living with my stepmother. But, she hates me so she lets me live on my own, pockets the money they give her. Actually, sends me a little less than half of it but it’s a nice arrangement.”

 

Leo knows Nico hates pity so he doesn’t coddle him. “I’ve been living with my grandmother after my mom died. But, she’s in the hospital right now.” Noting the look on Nico’s face, he rushes, “Oh, no, she’s gonna be fine. I know it.”

 

The waitress comes back with their burgers and fries and the two teenage boys dig into their meals. As though it’s an unspoken agreement, they don’t bring up their conversation again, instead commenting on other things, like the best restaurant they’d ever been to.

 

 

 

 

“I need to teach you to play Mythomagica sometime,” Nico says just as Leo pulls into the apartment complex. “I think you’d be good at it.”

 

“I’ll come over some time, just don’t leave me waiting in the hallway,” but there isn’t any malice in his voice.

 

“No promises.”

 

Leo laughs at that, “You don’t fool me, Nico di Angelo. You like me.”

 

Nico scrunches up his nose, “I do not,” and he doesn’t understand why his face feels warm. They both know it’s an obvious lie so Leo isn’t offended.

 

“So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” Leo asks as he parks. He glances at Nico in the passenger seat, his paleness accentuated by the moon’s light. Suddenly, he feels how quiet the car is and how peaceful everything is and when Nico meets his eyes, his entire vision is surrounded in those dark, brown eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Nico answers, and the distance in his voice tell Nico that the same thing is happening in Nico’s mind too. Leo swallows because this is dangerous but he also feels very warm in his core. And Nico is looking at him curiously, an undistinguishable expression on his features.

 

Nico is about to step out of the car when Leo blurts, “Wait.” Nico raises an eyebrow. Rummaging through his papers, Leo pulls out the first one he sees and scribbles something onto it with Sharpie. “It’s my cell. If you, uh, if you don’t feel like staying up to 3:25 AM.”

 

Nico half-smiles grimly and folds the piece of paper into his pocket. “Thanks,” he replies, still looking into Leo’s eyes. “Goodnight, Leo.”

 

“Goodnight, Nico,” Leo replies as he watches the younger boy disappear into the shadows of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please comment of what you thought. Also, follow my tumblr at: afuckingcastleintheclouds.tumblr.com.  
> Also, follow my Insta @ccreve


	6. We Were Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS TRIGGERING. If you need to, read until you get to a sentence in bold, then skip to the end where I have a summary!

Leo is great – Nico knows that.

 

He remembers the first time he ever saw Leo. In all honesty, a little different than he’d expected. He was there in the hallway, a little dazed, but it didn’t matter because he was there. He was there.

 

Leo was like a torch brought into his small apartment because Nico was grasping the darkness. _Leo can fix things so he can fix me_ , Nico remembers thinking to himself that night as he stared at the bandages on his arm. _He can fix me_.

 

When Leo smiles at him, Nico feels his head get a little dizzy and his heart feels a little lighter. Leo’s smile is bright and infectious.

 

When Leo laughs with him, because Leo would never really laugh _at_ him, Nico wants to laugh too and that confuses him. Because, he never wants to laugh but Leo makes him think that maybe – just maybe – he has a reason to.

 

When Leo touches him, it feels like the collision of fire and ice and his fingertips leave a trail of little explosions on Nico’s skin. It drives Nico crazy in the best kind of way.

 

Leo makes Nico feel like he does after a much needed nap – rested, with an unexplainable drifty, calm feeling, and with a little more energy than he had before.

 

 

But after a while, Nico gets tired again because naps can only sustain you for a few hours. Leo has to drop Nico back off at his apartment at some point and in those hours, Nico is scared again. Because it’s hard to go to sleep alone every night without hearing _her_ watching the television or seeing _her_ pore over bills or feeling _her_ ruffle his hair affectionately. The worries, the fears, and the demons crawl out again at night. During the day, when he’s with Leo, they can be kept at bay – but they’re in the shadows, lurking. Because he can’t ask Leo to stay because that means at some point Leo will have to leave again. And he can’t be lonely, either, because otherwise _they’ll_ get him. So he calls Leo at 3:25 when he doesn’t think he can fend them off alone anymore.

 

And when Leo picks up at 3:25, Nico can feel the light which evades the darkness through the voice on the telephone. Nico closes his eyes and he can see light in the darkness for a little while. And even though he knows it’s dangerous, to rely on one person so much, he can’t help himself. Leo makes him feel different inside. _Happy_ , Nico dares to think. Leo makes him feel happy.  

*****

Leo comes to get Nico every day before he heads to the Auto Shop. He’s there, grinning, in his red pick-up truck. His messy brown curls are further attacked by the wind and he’s wearing his army jacket. He’d started wearing it more often after Nico commented once that he liked it. Nico always watches to see if Leo is wearing his suspenders; for some reason, it always makes Nico laugh internally.

 

Things are really great for a while. They fall into this comfortable pattern and for a little while, Nico can escape his demons. He fiddles with the radio at the Auto Shop, sometimes reading through a pile of old books that Leo’s mom left there. But mostly, he watches Leo. Not necessarily in a creepy way, but he is curious. Leo just looks so focused and dedicated when he’s working; that’s when Nico thinks he is the most honest.

 

Not as though Leo lies to him; but Leo’s eyes are very careful. Even when Leo is being ‘carefree’, every time he looks at Nico, it’s as though part of him worries that it will be the last time. As though Nico is a ticking time bomb. And yet, Leo is not _scared_ of Nico, as everyone else is. But he is cautious with Nico.

 

So when Leo is working on his motorcycle, he lets down any kind of precaution. His eyes are a bit glazed, as though he’s thinking of other things. And that’s when Nico starts to wonder about the boy behind the mask. Because Leo _does_ wear a mask, he realizes.

 

Leo wears a mask when he smiles because Nico starts to realize that sometimes Leo’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

Leo wears a mask when he laughs because Nico starts to realize that Leo laughs _a lot_ , and he read somewhere that laughter is the alter ego of loneliness.

 

Leo wears a mask sometimes and Nico is curious as to why. And for once, Nico wonders what he makes Leo feel.

 

So, one night, as they sit in the parking lot of Nico’s apartment complex, Nico wonders, “So, um, how’s your grandmother?” This is new territory for them because they both have an unspoken agreement to not talk about the bad shit in their lives unless someone initiates it. And Nico’s just broken the agreement.

 

“My grandmother?” Leo scrunches his eyebrows as he looks at Nico. His expression is inscrutable at first.

 

Nico doesn’t meet his eyes, “I was just, uh, I was wondering because, um, the other day, you uh, mentioned something…”

 

Leo’s face is hard at first before something in him relaxes, “She’s, um, doing better. She’s gonna wake up any day now.” His face looks confused, “Why’d you ask?”

 

“I-” Nico chickens out, “Just wondering.” He sucks in his breath and lets it go as his fingers draw absentmindedly on the window. Even though Leo turned the car off, it’s still warmer inside than it is outside and that thought is comforting. Nico becomes increasingly reluctant to leave when Leo drops him off because he knows what is inside.

 

“Nico, you alright?” Nico hears but it sounds different, detached. In that moment, he knows it’s going to be a Bad Night.

 

He forces himself to face Leo, “Yeah, M’fine. Goodnight, Leo.” As though he’s in a trance, Nico opens the door of the red truck and shuffles into his apartment. He ignores the lobby attendant and heads straight to his room. He peels off his aviator jacket and flings it into the corner even though he feels really cold.

 

He curls up onto his bed as his breaths get shallow; he closes his eyes tightly and grits his teeth, praying that they’ll leave him alone. But they don’t. They never do…

 

 ***Warning: Triggers are ahead! Skip to the end notes for a summary!***  

_Tonight was the night. He was going to die._

_He’d done everything he was supposed to do; his note was written and tucked into his drawer. His motorcycle was outside, Bianca was going to be in for the night, studying for some test. He padded out of his room, his heart pounding nearly out of his chest. For a brief moment, a sick smile curled on his face – the last night of his life and he felt more alive than ever._

_When he walked out into the kitchen, his smile fell – Bianca was supposed to be in her room. Instead, she was humming baking something. She always baked when she was nervous._

_“Hey,” she greeted warmly as she closed the oven door. “Heading out?”_

_Nico kept his voice steady and did his best to seem annoyed, “Yeah, there’s a party tonight.”_

_“I know I tell you this every time, but don’t drink- it’ll mess up your medicine. Stay away from drugs, though. Those are bad,” she advises as she washes her hands._

_“Okay,” Nico nods. “Um, bye, Bianca.”_

_She looks at him quizzically, “Bye, Nico.” Seeing his face, the smile falls off her lips, “What’s wrong?”_

_“N-nothing,” Nico shakes his head, “Just a shit day.”_

_She looks skeptical, “You took your meds this morning, right? I left them on your dresser before I went to work.”_

_“Yeah,” Nico lies. He hates taking them so he sticks them under his tongue until he leaves the house and then tosses them in the trash._

_“Okay, well, be careful, then. Promise?” she smiles at him._

_“I will.”_

_She goes in for the hug and for once, Nico doesn’t resist. He hugs her back and lets himself relax into his sister’s arms. It is warm. For a brief moment, he considers calling it all off. He considers going back into his room, waiting for the cookies to finish baking and spend the rest of the night with his older sister._

_But then she pulls away and smiles at him again. “Okay, now go have fun! You’ll miss being a teenager.”_

_Nico nods once before heading out the door, “Love you, little brother!” She calls out as he leaves and Nico manages, “I love you, too.”_

_Nico walks out of the apartment complex in his aviator jacket, black, jeans, black t-shirt, and black converse. The night air is cool and crisp. ‘Keep going – don’t back out now,’ the voice in his head tells him as he walks to his motorcycle. As he gets on, his throat feels suddenly thick. The breaths come shorter and shorter as he rides on the long, empty road. There are no other cars. No other bikes. No other people. He is entirely alone._

_He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He doesn’t want to do anything anymore. He loves his sister, but he knows that she worries about him. She worries too much because she has bags under her eyes these days and wrinkles on her forehead. And he misses his mother and his father. And why did his father leave them in the first place?_

_It’s too late to turn back now. He can’t do this anymore._

_Why aren’t there any cars? He grits his teeth in annoyance and goes faster on his motorcycle. Tears fall from his face because his stomach hurts and everything hurts and he doesn’t know how to make it go away._

_And then, it appears. A light. Or rather, two lights on each side of the large truck._

I won’t make it _, he thinks to himself._ I won’t make it.

_And the huge truck honks for him to get out the way but Nico presses harder on the gas, before releasing his grip on the motorcycle. His hands lift off of the motorcycle seconds from impact and there’s no turning back now. No matter what happens, he is going to die. And he doesn’t know how he feels about that._

 

I love you and I’m sorry, _is the last thing he thinks of._

 

_Because he is supposed to die. He was supposed to die. That was the entire point._

_But when he wakes up in a white room, which can’t be heaven since sinners don’t go to heaven, he knows that he’s messed up._

_He’s messed up, badly._

_He’s so angry because of course, nothing works out the way he wants it to._

_Even then, it felt like a dream. As the nurses asked him questions and the doctor came in and there was a police officer in the corner and things were pumped into his system and his stepmother stood there in the corner, disgust on her face._

_“No, I didn’t mean to get hit,” he remembers lying, “It was an accident.” No way is getting labeled._

_“Okay, I’ll meet with a psychiatrist,” he agrees after he insists he takes his medicine every day._

_“Where’s my sister?” He asks at one point, but no one seems to hear him because no one answers._

_“Where’s Bianca? Does she hate me?” he wonders aloud but no one tells him anything. And how could she hate him unless she_ knew _and if she_ knew, _wouldn’t he have been in more trouble?_

_“Where’s my sister?” he cries on the second day because it’s been over 24 hours and he just wants to see her and tell her he’s sorry so she can hug him again. Because he needs to feel that right now._

_“Hasn’t anyone told you?” the doctor raises an eyebrow._

_Car crash. 3:25 AM. That was the time of his sister’s death._

_He doesn’t know what to think or what to feel until he gets home. Those stupid cookies she tried to bake are on the counter._

_And when he gets to his room, his heart stops. Because his drawer is open. THE drawer._

_He rushes over and it’s not there._

_It suddenly makes sense because Bianca never speeds the report said she was. She was looking for him._

_His note is gone. She found out._

And then, right on time, it’s 3:25 AM and Nico picks up the phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico tries to commit suicide and fails. When he wakes up in the hospital, he is finally told that his sister passed away at 3:25 AM. When Nico eventually returns home, he sees that his carefully hidden suicide note is missing and then he realizes that his sister must have found it, gotten into her car, and died looking for him. That is why he calls at 3:25.


	7. Near Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the snow starts to fall, Leo and Nico think of each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this on my phone so sorry if formatting is weird!!

When Leo wakes up that morning, his face falls because he realizes with a start that today is the day.  
  
He’s finished Nico’s motorcycle.  
  
He’ll need to give it back to Nico and then, that’ll be it. Because their entire fragile, friendship is based off of this purpose. Without it, what logical reason do they have to be in each other’s company? Under what pretense, other than pure desire, do they have to with each other?  
  
And that’s when Leo realizes that he likes Nico. He just likes being with him. He’s sure he could come up with a list of cliché little things (like the fact that Nico freaking giggles and has a strange but surprisingly pleasant taste in music) of reasons why he likes him, but when it comes down to it. He just likes him, simple as that.  
  
******  
Nico almost laughs when he wakes up that morning. The sky seems to be mourning his last day with Leo because it’s grey and it’s snowing.  
  
His motorcycle is done. He’d been watching as Leo put it back together again and now it’s fixed because Leo can fix almost anything.  
  
And Nico sees then, that he doesn’t want Leo to go away after today. “It’s not like we can actually be friends,” Nico mutters to himself and the word ‘friends’ sits weirdly on his tongue. No, he needs Leo to stay with him; he’s not strong enough on his own. And he still never figured out what was under the mask, but he’s working on it. Nico knows what will happen; Leo will claim that they will still be friends and they will keep in touch. But Leo will get bored of him and he won’t visit as often.  He won’t pick up as often because he’ll be busy. And the daily calls will fall to weekly and then none at all. And Nico will become like the potted plant in the corner of the kitchen which no one remembers to water.  
  
No; Nico can’t let someone else  leave him again. And Leo isn’t just anyone else.  
  
“Ugh, keep it together, man,” Nico mumbles as he gets out of his bed, shaking Leo from his head.  
  
Nico shuffles into the shower because for some reason, he feels like he should look nice today. And as the beads of water hit him, he has to turn down the temperature because his thoughts keep wandering toward Leo and what if Leo was here right now and what would Leo be doing to him and what if Leo touched his-  
  
“Merda,” Nico swears beneath his breath.  
  
This thing he had for Leo was worse than he thought.  
******  
When Leo pulls into the apartment complex a little earlier than usual, he’s surprised to see Nico already sitting there. Nico smiles a little when he sees Leo and flushes a bit pink. “Looks like someone had a good morning,” he teases as Nico gets into the car.  
  
“You have no idea,” Nico mumbles but doesn’t elaborate. He shakes his hair a little because it got wet from the rain.  
  
Leo coughs, “So, you excited?”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Dude, you’re finally getting for motorcycle back. Thought you’d be stoked!”  
  
Nico replies, but his voice sounds a little hollow, “I am.”  
  
Leo mocks him, “I can tell.”  
  
Nico rolls his eyes before setting his feet up on the dash. Leo makes a face, “Nicoooo, you know I hate it when you do that.”  
  
“Shut up, Valdez. You know you love me,” Nico replies as he rests his head back.  
  
Leo is glad that Nico’s eyes are closed because he turns an embarrassing shade of pink and half-smiles a bit. He tries to laugh it off, “Whatever, di Angelo.”  
  
Without opening his eyes, Nico gulps, “It doesn’t work when you use my last name; di Angelo is too long. Yours is nice and short at two syllables.”  
  
“What if I just called you Angel,” Leo shoots back without thinking.  
  
“Angel of death is more appropriate,” Nico replies darkly, then winces at his own harshness, “Sorry.”  
  
Leo half-smiles, “Nah, you’re just an angel. Your sweet and bubble personality is just icing on the cake.”  
  
Nico snorts at that, “Yes, that’s me, alright.” After a moment, he questions, “So, if you call me Angel, what do I call you?”  
  
“Valdez?”  
  
Nico shakes his head, “I was thinking ‘Repair Boy’?”  
  
Leo groans, “What? I give you an awesome nickname like Angel and you call me Repair Boy?”  
  
“I’m sorry, would you prefer something stupid, like Almight-Fire-Breathing-Dragon?”  
  
Leo smiles, “Much better.”  
*****  
The snow lets up as they pull into the Auto Shop. It’s still gray outside but they don’t get wet. “Okay, so I put in a few extra hours last night after I dropped you home,” Leo begins as they walk in.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
When the two get to Leo’s workstation, a large object is sheathed in plastic. “Nico di Angelo, I present your new and improved bike.”  
  
Nico isn’t sure there is a word to accurately describe how he feels so he says nothing at first. His bike is back – as though it was never broken – as though that night never happened. And Leo made it even better because there are flames near the sides, spray-painted in black, yellow, orange, and white. Leo’s shy grin is faltering so Nico decides he should probably say something but he can’t find the words. He doesn’t know how to express what he feels in his core; so he grabs Leo by the shoulders and for a second, the world stops.  
  
Dark eyes against dark eyes.  
  
Leo smells like oil stains, cinnamon-flavored gum (it’s his favorite), and cheap shampoo.  
  
Nico settles for a hug but somehow, it’s not enough. He grips onto Leo’s shoulders, the planes of their chests colliding. He’s never wanted to feel this close to someone before. As they pull away, Nico deliberately brushes his lips against Leo’s bony cheek. He’s not exactly sure why, and it’s swift enough that it could be perceived as accidental. He’s not even sure if Leo notices because Nico refuses to make eye contact. “It’s perfect,” he says instead, “You’re perfect, this is- thank you.”  
  
As Nico makes his way to his bike, a large grin on his face, Nyssa begins from her workstation, “I swear, Nico, I’ve never seen your boyfriend work so damn hard. You should come in all the time now.”  
  
Leo doesn’t bother to correct her, “Shut up, Nyssa,” as he rolls his eyes playfully. Nico is still gawking so Leo taps him on the shoulder, “Hey, wanna get out of here?”  
  
“Huh?” Nico replies, a little dazed.  
  
Leo chuckles, “Hey, Charlie, can I get the rest of the day off? I, uh, changed some gears and need to show Nico how they work-”  
  
Charlie’s laugh is booming, “Just get out of here. Seriously the eye sex you two have all the time is a bit scarring.”  
  
Leo protests, “Hey, we do NOT-”  
  
“Yes. You do,” Charlie, Nyssa, Harley, Shane, and Jake agree at once.  
  
“Really, Shane. Thought you had my back, man,” Leo shakes his head. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  
  
Nico, who’d missed most of the conversation, adds, “Yeah, see you guys later,” as per usual.  
  
*****  
“So, did you actually change any gears on my motorcycle?” Nico asks as he helps Leo wheel the bike onto Leo’s red pick-up truck.  
  
Leo grins wickedly, “’Course not. I just – I dunno, I’d rather spend the day with my- with you – doing nonsense than working.”  
  
Nico smiles – a real one – as they climb into the truck. “Well, then, where to first, Almight-Fire-Breathing-Dragon?”  
  
  
  
  
They end up doing a whole lot of nothing. They stop for ice cream because there’s no line because no one else would get ice cream on the last day of November. They pay for one movie and sneak into two more before they get caught and sprint from the security guard. They people-watch from tall buildings in town, braided in their jackets, throwing snowballs at unsuspecting people in business coats. They’re drunk of happiness and that gray day is so perfect, that Nico doesn’t want it to end. But every day has its end as the night gets darker and the streets more lonely,  
  
As Leo drives, ready to drop Nico home, he bites his lip, “Hey, um, the roads are getting pretty bad ‘cause of the snow and my house isn’t too far…do you want to just stay over?”  
  
Nico tries his best to remain calm although his heart starts beating for some crazy reason, “Yeah, sure.” He fiddles with Leo’s radio before stating the obvious, “I’ve never seen your place before.”  
  
Leo smirks, “It’s nothing special. Better than yours though.”  
  
“Yeah, right. I’ve seen your workstation – that place is a hot mess,” Nico rolls his eyes as they take a new path, towards Leo’s house.  
  
  
  
The snow is falling harder again and the sky is a violet-gray when Leo pulls into his small, upward-sloped driveway. The house itself is situated on the top of small hill; it’s pretty small and rather average looking. There are fire-red bricks and a black door and some dry, dead plants in the front. The snow isn’t sticking to the ground, for some reason, so the house just looks wet instead of snowy and quaint.  
  
They make their way to the door as the wind whips their hair and the snow settles on their skin. It’s biting cold outside, much colder than it was before, and the snow makes it hard to see so Nico grabs onto Leo’s upper arm and then his forearm until they’re just connected by their fingers. Leo fiddles with his key at the front door and Nico’s teeth are chattering, “Can you fucking go faster?”  
  
“I’m trying! I can’t see and it’s wet,” Leo grits his teeth before they finally burst into the foyer. It’s a lot warmer inside, but it’s still pretty cold as they shuffle in. “Thank gods,” Leo mumbles as he kicks off his boots and starts on the fire.  
  
“So, this is your place,” Nico says thoughtfully as he steps into the living room, “It’s nice.” It is rather quaint, although it’s pretty messy with Leo’s papers and clothes and food strewn about, it’s also very home-y. Nico isn’t sure if it’s the fire Leo’s starting or the artwork on the walls or the colorful curtains, but something is very cozy about Leo’s home.  
  
“Yeah,” Leo agrees as the fire grows – it’s warmth filling the room. Nico’s shivering still, drenched in his aviator jacket and black clothes as he sits beside Leo on a chair beside the fire. Their legs are pressed together and although Leo is focused on the fire in front of him, he can feel Nico’s presence so strongly beside.  
  
“Leo?”  
  
Leo’s eyes widen as he takes Nico in beside him. His skin is flushed pink, probably from the influx of heat. His cheeks and lips are redder than ever and his eyes are shiny and hungry at the same time. His voice is small and he’s twisting a ring he has on his finger. Leo furrows his brow, “Nico, what’s wrong?”  
  
Nico shakes his head, “N-nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to say, thank you. I mean, really. Thank you for picking up when I called the first time. And thank you for putting up with my shit and just being there and fixing my bike when you didn’t have to and I just- I don’t understand why would want to be there for me, but you are. And, I just, I really just want you to know that it means a lot. So, um, yeah, t-thank you.”  
  
Leo smiles, a little sadly, and wipes away a growing tear. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for. I, um-” and the words are stuck in his throat. As he looks into Nico’s dark, nearly tearful eyes he realizes that now is the time. And his heart beats with anticipation because this moment is real and it is happening. “I like you, Nico.”  
  
Nico cocks his head to side a little, “What do you mean?” and Leo wants to laugh because Nico is incredibly smart and he’s incredibly adorable and he’s also incredibly dense sometimes.  
  
Leo shakes his head and closes his eyes, “No, Nico. I like you.”  
  
For a horrifying moment, there’s nothing but the crackling of the logs in the fire and Leo contemplates throwing himself in there. But when he opens his eyes, he sees Nico’s wearing a shit-eating grin even though his eyes are downcast, as though he’s seconds away from squealing. Leo prompts, more than a little nervous, “Nico? Now’s the part where most people usually respond...”  
  
And Nico looks back up at Leo – brown eyes meet brown eyes. Leo can smell Nico’s cool, peppermint breath as they get every so closer; Nico can count the flecks of amber in Leo’s eyes. And they get even closer, so that their lips are barely touching, separated by a thin, permeable layer of air. Nico’s eyelids flutter shut, followed closely by Leo’s. And then, the threshold is crossed. The layer disappears. Fire meets ice and the collision of these powerful, cosmic forces cause a ricochet of reactions, chemical and physical.  
  
They kiss.  
  
They kiss.  
  
They kiss, again.  
  
Leo sees orange stars and Nico sees a bright light and suddenly, they’re not in Leo’s living room anymore, but they’re everything at once. Because this, whatever it is, feels invincible. It is invincible. It feels mystical. Little explosions start in Leo’s center, his heart, and spread to every fiber of his being. Nico feels his toes ignited, alight with a fire that travels to his very core and beyond. He pulls Leo closer to him because he wants to feel him, completely. Their lips collide and they almost become one entity.  
  
He tangles his fingers in Leo’s messy curls. Leo’s arms snake their way across his waist, supporting him. Their gentle kisses turn passionate and needy. Hands scrape and caress and touch and fit and they hadn’t realized how much they wanted this, or needed this until this moment.  
  
The fire behind them blazes as their sopping wet jackets, t-shirts, jeans hit the floor around them. The room is filled with nothing but the sound of desire, want, fulfillment and the gentle crackling of the firewood.


	8. Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo really shouldn't be in the kitchen while Nico is in there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say, enjoy the fluff while it's here (;

When Leo wakes up at 1 am, to get ready for his shift, he’s alone by the fireplace. It takes him a good three minutes to remember what happened, a blush settling on his cheeks when he remembers Nico…..

 

Now isn’t the time.

 

He frowns as he hears the creak of his front door as it begins to open. “So, you were just going to leave, then?”

 

Nico looks guilty, probably half-annoyed at himself, “Yeah. I, uh, yeah.”

 

Leo groans because he thought they were past this, “So, all this then, meant nothing?” And he feels strangely vulnerable, wrapped in nothing but his blanket, standing in his foyer, facing Nico.

 

Nico shuts his eyes, frustrated, “No, it’s not that it’s just-”

 

“Just what?”

 

Nico glares, “Sorry, dammit, I have abandonment issues.”

 

“Stop being a shit, Nico,” Leo rolls his eyes because Leo knows that Nico isn’t being completely serious.

 

Tiredly, Nico asks, “Look, I can’t stay-”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because, it’ll make it real,” Nico breathes.

 

“Make what real?” Leo wonders, genuinely.

 

“Last night, everything, what I-,” he pauses, his fingers twisting a ring, “these, y’know, feelings and shit.”

 

“What feelings, Nico?”

 

Nico opens his eyes, “The feelings I have for you, okay?” And he looks kind of defeated, “Look, I get it if last night was just, y’know, heat of the moment for you. But for me, it was-” he pauses again, an embarrassingly wide smile crossing his lips for a brief moment.

 

Leo shakes his head, “God, you can be dense, sometimes.” Nico furrows his eyebrows, but Leo continues, “Last night wasn’t some dumb, heat-of-the-moment fling, okay? I like you, alright? I like you a lot and I like being with you. I meant it when I said it before and I mean it now, okay? I just- I just do. And I wish you’d just accept that.”

 

Nico looks wary, “It’s not that I don’t accept it, it’s just that - well, then, what do you want from me? I can’t be your boyfriend or whatever because I’m not, I can’t be that guy. I’m not the guy who brings flowers or remembers anniversaries or-”

 

Leo shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want anything other than, y’know, this. Whatever _this_ is – that’s what I want. I just want you to stay, alright? But it doesn’t even matter what I want. What do you want?”

 

“I don’t know,” Nico grunts, but his body is inching away from the door, “I don’t know. I, just, well, I want last night again.” And Leo chuckles at that. Nico shrugs, “I just, I just want you, I think.”

 

“That sounds confident,” Leo teases a little and Nico rolls his eyes.

 

“So does this mean I get to do _this?_ ” Nico murmurs as he steps closer to Leo, teasing him with their lips just centimeters away. Leo is just about to close the gap when Nico takes a step back, wrinkling his nose, “Morning breath.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes, “Oh, fuck you.”

 

“I know you’d like to,” Nico quips as he shuts the door fully.

 

“That was clever,” Leo nods appreciatively, “But I’ve got to get to work now, too.”

 

Nico yawns, “So where can I-”

 

“My room,” Leo answers, already knowing the question. He leads Nico down the hall to his small, slightly messy room. “I’ll be in the shower if you need anything, alright?” Nico nods as he tentatively plops down onto Leo’s bed. “Oh, and Nico?”

 

Nico looks up lazily, just before Leo steals a quick peck, “That’s payback.”

******

While Leo is at the Crisis Center, Nico is a bit touched that he would trust him alone in his house. He sleeps a bit while Leo is away but he wakes up again around 3. Leo’s bed is soft, full of homemade quilts. There are sketches and blueprints thrown about the room. There’s a goofy photograph of Leo and his mother on the nightstand. There are also some of Leo’s drawings from when he was much younger hanging on a bulletin board, which makes Nico smile.

 

He knows that Leo doesn’t have any siblings, which makes Nico remember the conversation with his social worker earlier that week….

 

_“Hello, Mr. D,” Nico replied as he sat down beside Persephone in the man’s small office._

_“You found the bathroom okay, sweetie?” Persephone asked him in a faux-sweet voice._

_Nico nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”_

_Mr. D studied them for a moment before saying, “So, back to what we were talking about before, you don’t necessarily_ have _to meet your half-sister, but it might be a good idea.”_

_“Well, I don’t need to and I don’t want to,” Nico scowled._

_“Well, we told Hazel and her family and they’re open to meeting you at any time-”_

_“Great,” Nico answered, flatly. “Not interested.”_

_Mr. D sighed, “Okay, next order of business, then. Have you started to think of your life plans?”_

_“I plan on joining the circus,” Nico replied, his fingers drumming on the armrest._

_Persephone nodded, “I fully support this. Not because he’s a_ freak _or anything.”_

_Nico made a face at Persephone while Mr. D went on and on._

_“And you’re still meeting with your therapists and taking medicine, right?” Mr. D raised an eyebrow._

_“’Course,” Nico lied. He hadn’t seen Dr. Apollo in weeks and he’d run out of pills a few days prior. And it’s not as though he had $60 ready to spare on medication or another $100 to shell out for an appointment._

_Mr. D frowned, “Really? Because Dr. Apollo says he hasn’t seen you in weeks. You keep missing and rescheduling appointments.”_

_Nico gulped, “I was busy.”_

_Mr. D shook his head, “Well, I figured you would say that. So, I’ve made an appointment for next Friday at 3 pm. And Nico, if I were you, I’d make sure I was there.”_

 

At 3:25, Nico sends Leo a text for old time’s sake. It’s nothing special but Leo responds nearly instantly, saying that there haven’t been many calls for some reason. But when Leo doesn’t reply for a while, Nico doesn’t question it.

 

Nico knows that Leo will be back around 6:30, so after taking another short nap, he decides to make them breakfast. So, around 5:30, he starts rummaging around Leo’s sparse kitchen.

 

“What the hell?” he murmurs as he goes through Leo’s pantry, which is stocked with Doritos, chocolate, sugar, beer, cereal, and pasta. Leo’s refrigerator is packed with soda, beer, milk, butter, more beer, pomegranates, and bread. He digs through Leo’s cabinets and drawers for whatever money he can find – he ends up with seven $1 and fifteen cents. Wrapping himself in his aviator jacket and Leo’s winter hat with ear flaps, Nico shuffles to the nearest corner store, despite the biting cold. The girl at the register eyes him warily as he looks for the cheapest mix, flour and eggs that he can find.

 

When he gets back to Leo’s warm house, his face falls a little when he sees Leo’s car in the driveway. As he pushes the door open, Nico sees Leo’s face turn into one full of relief. “I thought you left again.”

 

Nico grumbles, “Well, you weren’t supposed to be here, yet.”

 

Leo cocks his head, “What’s that?”

 

Nico smirks as he pushes past Leo into the kitchen, “Breakfast. You have shit food, here.”

 

Indignantly, Leo protests, “That’s not true!”

 

As Nico starts cracking eggs into a bowl, he scoffs, “All I could find were Doritos and beer.”

 

Leo shrugs, “What are you making anyways?”

 

“Don’t you have things you need to be doing?” Nico huffs, but he’s not really angry.

 

“Nope,” Leo grins, even though Nico can tell his eyes are tired.

 

“When do you even sleep?” Nico wonders as he adds some pancake mix to the bowl.

 

Leo shrugs, “I don’t,” as he pulls a can of beer from the fridge. Nico looks up at him because there’s something in his tone that doesn’t sit quite right with him. But then, Leo flashes him a smile, “I’m kidding, obviously,” but Nico isn’t sure how much he believes that.

 

“Um,” Nico starts as he drops chocolate chips into the bowl, “So, I have something to tell you.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Leo responds as he wipes beer off his top lip.

 

“Apparently, I have a half-sister,” Nico blurts out, his eyes focused on the bowl in front of him.

 

Leo nearly drops his can, “What?”

 

Nico shrugs, “Yeah, I, uh, I have a half-sister. And my social worker wants me to meet her.”

 

“Do you want to meet her?” Leo asks him, earnestly.

 

“No,” Nico scowls, “She’s not- They can’t honestly think they could replace _her,_ y’know?”

 

“Maybe it could help though,” Leo suggests, “Obviously, she won’t be the same as Bianca, but y-you’re still family.”

 

Nico almost lashes out until he sees the look on Leo’s face. His eyes are far away, as though he’s thinking of something else and Nico realizes that the house is still rather empty.

 

“I guess,” Nico sighs as he pours some pancake batter into a skillet. “I’ll think about it.”

 

Leo blinks, a smile on his face, and Nico feels comforted again, happier. “So, since when do you cook?”

 

Nico grins, “Only when I have really good nights.”

 

Leo saunters over from his place on the counter, “Well, you’re kind of adorable like that.”

 

“I’m not adorable,” Nico scowls.

 

Leo dusts some flour off of Nico’s nose, “See? Adorable.”

 

“Swear to god, I’ll-”

 

But Nico never gets to finish his threat because Leo starts kissing him and that takes priority. And even though it was merely hours ago, Nico kind of forgot how wonderful it feels to have Leo’s lips against his. But kissing Leo again now is kind of heaven and his lips still taste sweet, like cinnamon, and Nico feels just as breathless and it feels really hot in the kitchen and at first he thinks it’s coming from Leo’s skin (because Leo gets really warm when they kiss) but it’s feeling really hot, almost suffocating and-

 

“SHIT!” Leo yells as they break apart.

 

“What the hell?” Nico’s lips are already red and he’s horny and confused as to why Leo would pull away.

 

Instead, Leo grabs his arm, yanking him away from the stovetop, “Pancake on FIRE!”

 

The skillet is smoking as flames arise as Nico turns around, so he immediately shrieks, “GAH! Don’t you have an extinguisher?”

 

“NO!” Leo calls as pours his beer on the skillet and the flames get larger.

 

“NO!” Nico pushes away from it, “You idiot. Alcohol makes fires bigger!”

 

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? IT’S A LIQUID!”

 

Nico inches toward the stovetop, whispering to Leo, “Turn on the sink.”

 

“What the-”

 

“Turn on the goddamn sink, Leo,” Nico murmurs as he nears the handle of the pan. Leo obliges, and Nico instantly heaves the flaming pan into the cold, wet sink. A small, explosion-like reaction takes place. The steam that arises is nearly blinding so they both duck for cover beneath the counter.  

 

“I am never letting you cook again,” Leo shakes his head.

 

“This is _your_ fault!” Nico snaps, “You just _had_ to kiss me in the kitchen.”

 

They slowly stand up and creep toward the pan. “How is it _still on fire?”_ Nico cries.

 

“I don’t know!” Leo screeches, “Here!” He tosses Nico a large lid, which he uses to smother the flames. After a moment, the flames die down.

 

Nico looks at Leo, breathless, “You wanna go out for breakfast?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

******

 

“I think I’ll meet with her- Hazel,” Nico mentions as they sit in a booth at iHop. Their food hasn’t arrived yet, but, they’ve been talking aimlessly since then.

 

“Good,” Leo smiles, “You’re sure about this, though, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Nico nods, “One week until I meet Miss Hazel Levesque.”

 

Leo goes cold, “Wait, Hazel Levesque?”

 

“Yeah, that’s her name.”

 

“She works at the crisis center,” Leo furrows his brow, “I know her.”

 

“Is that a _bad_ thing?” Nico raises an eyebrow at Leo’s expression.

 

And suddenly, Chiron’s warning to Leo rings clearly in his ears. “If she finds-”

 

But then, Leo’s phone rings. Normally, he’d ignore it, but when the number for the hospital flashes across the screen, his heart stops. He brings his cell phone to his ear, “’Lo? Leo Valdez speaking.”

 

“Leo Valdez?” Dr. Brunswick begins, “We have news- we need to talk about your grandmother.” 


	9. Under the Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long!! I've been working on hella college apps and....sorry boring details  
> Here it finally is!

Leo drums his fingers on the wheel, half-heartedly chuckling at his own pent up energy. He’s always been _too_ energetic. His _abuelita_ told him it was because he added life to everyone. But sometimes he wonders if that’s just because he zaps everyone else’s energy right out of them.

 

The car blasts Bon Jovi, a cheap tactic to fill the deafening silence.

 

Nico sits beside him in the car, his face scrunched up in half-confusion, half-fear. “Hey, uh, Leo, you know that-”

 

“Don’t,” Leo blurts more harshly than he means. “I mean, just – do you want to listen to something else instead?”

 

And Nico sighs because _no_ he doesn’t want to listen to anything else. All he wants to do is make Leo talk to him. But usually, their roles are the other way around and this is different and new and Nico doesn’t want to push him.

 

So he doesn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

When they get to the hospital, it is as busy as ever. Men hold little girls and mothers hold their sons. Nurses bustle, carrying IV’s and medications. Doctors bark orders and lab technicians proudly thrust their MRI results in the air. As they walk briskly into the elevator, a medical team bustles in first, rolling in a very pregnant woman. The woman clutches her wife’s hand as she screams out in agony, “WHEN DO I GET MY GODDAMN EPIDURAL?”

 

Turning to Leo and Nico, the nurse demands in a sugary-sweet voice, “You can catch the next one, right?”

 

And he nods. Because he’s waited months, surely he can wait another few minutes.

 

They do wait for the next elevator and when they clamber in, an old man with a blissfully happy smile waits for them. Beside him is a woman, dressed in all blue, and a slightly exasperated scowl on her lips. “Have you seen Patricia?” he asks them but Leo can tell he doesn’t really see them. The old man insists, “Patricia? Patricia?”

 

The woman beside him chides patiently, “Now, Robert, we talked about this, remember? Patricia isn’t here anymore.”

 

The old man frowns, “Why, yes, she is. I saw her yesterday! Need to tell her that I-”

 

“Robert,” the woman says again, “Patricia died fifteen years ago.”

 

The elevator for the ICU opens and Leo and Nico slip out, relieved to escape. Nico follows as Leo zig-zags a familiar path through the crowd. He bumps into a few tired-looking surgeons and one cranky toddler. When he catches back up to Leo, he’s signing a few papers at the nurse’s desk. And Nico realizes, for a moment, that the mask has fallen. And he can see just how scared, no, terrified Leo really is. The weariness beneath his eyes is clear, the stoop in his back is evident, and the general lack of luster is obvious.

 

But then, as though he can read Nico’s thoughts, he readjusts as he slides the clipboard back to the woman. “Thanks, Diane,” he breathes as the nurse turns back to her filing.

 

Nico speaks up as he slides beside Leo, “Are you ready?”

 

Leo bites his lip, eyes closed, “Yeah.”

 

Instinctively, Leo’s fingers find Nico’s as they step forward and Leo presses the door open.

 

And there she is.

 

A cannula is underneath her nose, four different IVs are jabbed into her arms, and she is a sickly pale. But as Leo steps into the room, her dry, cracked lips form a smile.

 

Leo feels as though he is being smothered because there is no air. He feels as though someone as nailed the soles of his feet to the tiled floor. His chest rises and falls rapidly and he knows that if he tries to say a word, he will completely lose it.

 

His _abuelita_ merely croaks, “ _Mi ángel bebé,_ ” and that sends Leo flying into her arms.

 

His face is wet with tears and she can’t lift her head from the hospital’s pillow but she’s alive.

 

She’s alive.

 

She’s breathing and living.

 

She’s alive.

 

And Leo can’t stop crying into her shoulder. At first, he thinks he’s crying because he’s so happy but after a bit, he’s not sure what exactly is making him cry. But, that doesn’t matter because sometimes you just _need_ to cry. He cries for everything. Because his mother isn’t there, but his grandmother is, and his father was _never_ there. And he cries because he thinks he’s in love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself and his grandmother doesn’t know about them yet – she doesn’t know about him, yet. But most of all, he cries because what else is he going to do.

 

His _abuelita_ peppers kisses on his forehead and cheeks, murmuring sweet condolences in Spanish. Dr. Brunswick smiles from his corner of paper filing, “You must have someone looking after you, Mr. Valdez, because this was one hell of a miracle.”

 

Leo sniffs into her his abuelita’s shoulder, trilling in rapid Spanish, “ _Te quiero tanto. Nunca me dejes_.” (I love you so much. Never leave me).

 

“ _Nunca, mi amor,”_ she soothes, struggling to lift her hand. (Never, my love).

 

Dr. Brunswick explains, “Your grandmother, while she has woken up, will have some difficulty using her muscles. We had been doing some exercises with her while she was in her comatose state to prevent total dystrophy, but she, of course, is not at her optimal range of motion.”

 

“It’s okay,” Leo mumbles, lifting his head and wiping his eyes. “It’s all okay, now. Hey, Nic-” He turns to Nico, in an attempt to introduce them, but he is nowhere to be found.

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t stay in here, Nico thinks to himself as Leo meets eyes with his grandmother. Because dammit, he _wanted_ to be strong for Leo but he can’t. The white walls, the IVs, the blood, the faux-friendly staff – all he can see is her. All he can remember is her. The last time he was in a hospital was the date he was released. And suddenly, the room is too small and he can’t be selfish right now but he _can’t_ do this. Besides, Leo needs alone time with his grandmother. And the room is too small and it’s too warm and he probably needs a doctor and the irony is astounding at the moment-

 

He mutters a pathetic excuse about getting coffee and practically leaps out of the door. The nurses at the station are busy typing away at their computers and other visitors are too preoccupied to notice as he slumps against the wall.

 

_“Love you little brother!”_

_“Where’s Bianca?”_

_“Love you-_

Her skin was like fields of poppies and lavenders in the snow – deathly white with purplish-blue bruises and blood.

 

“ _Hasn’t anyone told you?”_

 

“- _little brother!”_

 

_“Hasn’t anyone told you?”_

Her eyes were shut as though she could have been taking a nap. Well, if the massive machines weren’t around her and the needles weren’t jabbed carelessly into her thin forearms.

_“Hasn’t anyone told you?”_

_“Where’s Bianca?”_

_“Hasn’t anyone told you?”_

She was cold, cold, cold – the kind of cold you can smell sharply and taste bitterly on your tongue. She was empty; she was gone.

 

She was dead and he was alive.  

 

 

“Go away,” Nico hisses to himself, eyes shut and teeth clenched. Because the thoughts were supposed to go _away_. _They_ were supposed to leave him alone. Everything was supposed to be better because Leo made things better. But _they_ wouldn’t go away. He can’t breathe as he curled his hands into fists, pressed against his temples.

 

“Stop, stop, stop,” he growls. Because all he wants was for it to go _away._ Stop thinking. Stop feeling. Stop breathing. Stop this endless pain, because he realizes, it was endless. He could be as sorry as he wanted about Bianca’s death.

 

But she is still dead and he is still alive and everything was still just as fucked up as it’d always been.

 

“Nico?” a voice pulls him from his reverie. Nico looks up, to see Leo’s beaming face. And Nico always joked in his head that Leo was the sun, but in that moment, Nico realizes that he was right. Even crying and dulled, Leo is still as incandescent as ever. His eyes are red from tears but he is joyous.

 

But as Leo takes in Nico’s tears, Nico can see that glow slowly begin to dull. And he can’t let that happen. He ruined so much already, he couldn’t ruin Leo anymore. Not when Leo was happy – no, blissful. “Nico, what’s wrong?” Leo begins to frown as Nico lifts himself off of the floor.

 

Fearing his voice would betray him, Nico instead presses his lips to Leo’s. When they break away, Leo is a bit confused. Nico merely shakes his head, “I wanted to give you space with her.” He pauses, biting his lip, “I’m really happy for you. I really am.”

 

His dark eyes reluctantly meet Leo’s, whose lips curved into a grin. “I-Nico, I lo-”

 

Dr. Brunswick pokes his head out from the door, “Ah, great! You’ve found him. With the medications your grandmother is on, she might fall asleep rather soon so you’d better introduce him quickly, okay?”

 

Leo gulps, eyes focused on the floor, “Uh, so, uh, you ready to meet my grandmother? For real, this time?”

 

 

 

 

When they step into his _abuelita’s_ hospital room, her cheeks are a bit rosier. She is still rather stiff and motionless, but she smiles widely when she sees Leo again. “ _Abuelita, esta es mi, um, este es mi otro amor. Su nombre es Nico.”_ (Grandmother, this is my, um, this is my other love. His name is Nico)

_“Tienes otro amor?”_ she smiles good-naturedly.(You have another love?)

 

Nico coughs awkwardly, “Um, hi,” as he leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

 

She cocks her head, affectionately holding onto Nico’s hand. She manages, “You, ah, must be future grandson, no?”

 

Nico blushes and Leo drops his jaw, “ _Abuelita!”_

She smiles wider and motions for Nico to come closer, whispering into his ear, she murmurs, “You have much darkness, little angel. It is easier to see a candle in the night than it is to see in the daylight.”

 

Nico furrows his brow as he stands up and she lets out a breathy laugh at his expression. “ _Me gusta este_ ,” she manages, her words beginning to slur.

 

Leo laughs, “Me too, Grandmother. Me too.”

 

******

A song by the Arctic Monkeys floods the car later that week. Leo hasn’t stopped singing (badly, Nico might add) and this night is no different. Leo asks, trying to seem suave, “Are you going to mention me?”

 

“We discussed this,” Nico frowns, “No one you work with can know about us.”

 

Leo nods, “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you remembered.” He sighs, “You know I’m not, like, embarrassed of us.”

 

Nico makes a face because they’ve had this conversation seemingly thousands  of times, “Leo, I know. What’s wrong?”

 

Leo shakes his head, “Nothing, I just-” he looks at Nico fondly for a moment. “Nothing, okay? Just have fun on your little date.”

 

Nico rolls his eyes.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” Leo asks as they park in front of the nicely furnished townhouse.

 

Nico nods. As he steps into the cold, night, he wraps his Aviator jacket more tightly around him. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I think she’s going to drop me home.”

 

His sneakers crunch spare rocks from gravel as he steps toward the large, green door. He knocks once, shoving his fist into his pocket. Leo still sits in his car like a concerned parent and suddenly Nico feels like a middle-schooler going to his first party. He tries to wave Leo off but it is no good. Instead, Leo just adjusts his truck so that it is more easily concealed.

 

Just as he prepares to knock again, the door swings open. A girl, perhaps a little younger than he, opens the door. Her eyes widen before erupting into a large smile. “N-nico. You must be Nico di Angelo, right?”

 

Nico nods, a grim smile settling on his features, “Hazel Levesque?”

 

Hazel grins, “Well, come on in, Nico. I think we have a lot to talk about.”


	10. Poland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, Nico's not alright and he wishes that Leo would just accept that.

“I’m happy.”

 

“I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m happy,” Nico says to himself because he thinks the more that he says it, the more he’ll believe it.

 

Because he’s not happy and he hates himself for it.

 

After avoiding meeting with Hazel for the third time, Nico takes a walk, away from his apartment because he needs to be alone right now.

 

Hazel’s great. She makes them Hazelnut coffee (she enjoys a good pun) and tells him about her life. She’s a bit younger than him and her mother works a lot, leaving her alone in the house most of the time. But he can’t talk to Hazel about Leo because Leo works with Hazel and it’s beginning to bother Nico. So they talk about stupid things like the weather and their deadbeat father.

 

Because Leo is great. Leo is really great to him. But sometimes Leo looks at Nico like he’s broken piece of glass held together by glue. As though he’s hopeful that the glass won’t break, but is wary that it will.  

 

The bitter, December weather slaps Nico across his pale face. He can see his hot breath and the cold air coalesce to form a visible mist which eventually dissolves into nothingness. He’s so cold that he can’t feel his fingers. But he likes the numbness – the inability to feel. It’s nearly sedative. His fingers are thrust into the deep pockets of his baggy, bomber jacket. The tall, naked trees make ominous shapes – their branches covered in a layer of snow. It’s darkly comedic.

 

Nico pauses a few blocks from his apartment complex – a park catching his eye. It’s been years since he’s walked by Sunset Playground. During the year, the overgrown grasses and chipping metal render it rather ugly and abandoned. But the snow which settles on everything refurnishes it into a mystical wonderland. He steps forward and he can almost hear the echoes of a little boy and little girl playing on the monkey bars.

 

His phone buzzes with a text message from Leo, wondering his whereabouts. Nico debates whether or not to respond when his phone slips from his fingers. The snow covers it, melting quickly. When he picks it up, the screen is completely black.

 

Nico crawls over the gates of the playground. His feet leaving a trail in the snow. He falls into the piles of white precipitation, staring up into the cloudy, bluish, grayish, and whitish sky.

 

A peaceful bliss washes over him and the seconds blur into minutes and he’s not sure how long he’s lying there.

 

“What the hell?” Nico hears a familiar voice say and his eyes snap open.

 

Nico sits up, flakes of snow settled into his hair, “Leo?”

 

Leo looks baffled and relieved at the same time before he tackles Nico in a hug, “You idiot! Where’ve you been? How come you didn’t answer me?”

 

“M’phone broke,” Nico shrugs as he holds up the broken piece of technology in his hands.

 

“What were you doing out here?” Leo wonders. And for the first time, Nico sees it in Leo’s eyes. He’s scared.

 

Nico shakes his head and plasters a smile, “Nothing. Took a detour on my home.”

 

Leo furrows his eyebrows, “I know – that’s how I found you. You’re lucky it stopped snowing or else your footsteps would have been completely covered. Why’d you come here?”

 

 “I- I always liked the park,” Nico responds as he hugs his knees. “Used to come to this one a lot.” He doesn’t tell Leo about Bianca and his mother and the Sunday picnics and he’s not sure why.

 

“Well, why don’t we get out of the cold?” Leo rubs his hands together, “I’m freezing.”

 

“No, I want to stay a bit longer,” Nico falls back into the snow, defiant.

 

Leo looks incredulous for a moment and a sly grin appears on his face, “Fine, then.” He grabs a pile of snow and plops it onto Nico’s chest. “We’ll stay.”

 

Nico lets out a loud gasp as the cold hits his chest and he can’t help but laugh. He throws bits of snow, lamely he might add, at Leo’s midsection but Leo ends up laughing too and falling beside him in the snow. Nico rolls onto his side as Leo does the same. Leo tenderly places a hand on Nico’s cheek before planting a warm, peck on his lips. Nico’s cheeks turn red with heat as he responds to the kiss. It’s kind of innocent because it feels wrong to do any more than that in a child’s playground – no matter how deserted it is.

 

Nico breaks away first, his breathing a little ragged. A shy smile erupts on his face as he pulls himself up. Offering a hand to Leo, he says, “You feel like being cliché and stupid as hell?”

 

And so Leo chases him around the park as the wind blows gently. They throw snowballs at each other. They push each other down the slide and pretend that they actually get a thrill from the small ramps. They bend their knees at the monkey bars because they’re too tall to use it normally. They’re lost in the memories of childhood, reenacting the hours spent at the playground when they were young. And the whole experience is rather ethereal.

 

Nico insists that they go on the swings, even though the seats are soaked, and so their pants are wet as they swing like small children. Leo’s laugh echoes in his ear as they swing. The white snow blends in with the white sky and Nico feels like he’s floating higher and higher and maybe if he lets go, he’ll be able to fly far, far away.  

 

So he does, waiting until he reaches the apex of the swing before releasing his fingers and thrusting himself forward. Time slows down and for a split second, he is suspended. And then, he’s falling, falling, falling toward the ground. There’s a certain freedom in falling – a rush of adrenaline from the lack of restraint. His body acts naturally and the snow cushions his fall. And the three seconds it takes for this all to occur are over.

 

And Leo copies him, jumping off the swing, like they did when they were kids and everything is normal. Everything is alright. That’s what Nico tells himself, at least, as he stands up with Leo. And he pretends that jumping of the swing has nothing to do with jumping off a building.

 

But it’s too late.

 

He can feel it again. His moments of pure bliss are ephemeral because it’s back again. And he wishes, he prays that it would just _stay away_. But it won’t. He wishes he could just ‘be happy’. He wills himself to feel happiness. But it doesn’t work.

 

Suddenly, all he wants to do is go home and be alone. It’s getting bad again. He can feel it. 

 

He muses, smile fading, as Leo rambles about something as they’re lying in the snow again. “…really a shame that no one comes here anymore since they built Daylight Park across town. It’s by that development – what’s it called again?”

 

“Elysium Manor,” Nico replies robotically. He remembers how his mother continued to bring him and Bianca to _this_ park even after the new park was built. He remembers the picnics on Sundays at 12 with prosciutto sandwiches and grape juice boxes. He remembers how all the other kids in kindergarten would go to the _other_ park, the _nicer_ park after school and made their friend groups early but that was okay because he’d always have his big sister to play with and everything was alright.

 

Leo is still talking, “…should fix this place up again. I mean, I bet kids in your apartment would like to play here still. Definitely a good public works project for the town.”

 

Nico half-chuckles, “That’s not going to happen. You can’t just fix this park.”

 

“No, no,” Leo laughs, “I have an entire plan made up and everything…”

 

And Nico’s smile fades completely as Leo keeps going. Because as amused as he was by Leo’s rambling, Nico finds himself getting annoyed. “You can’t fix it, Leo,” he says again, harsher this time.

 

Leo’s head snaps to face Nico, the smile on his face slowly fading as he hears the anger in Nico’s tone. “I, uh-”

 

“You can’t just come in and expect to _fix_ everything,” Nico continues.

 

“I know that, but-”

 

“Some things just – they just stay broken and there’s nothing anyone can do and that’s just how they are,” Nico keeps going.

 

Leo frowns, “Nico, what are you on about?”

 

It may be cold outside but the silence between them is colder. Nico can see the fear, the wariness return to Leo’s eyes. And it sort of breaks Nico’s heart because Leo isn’t supposed to look at him like that. Finally, Nico responds, “Do you ever wonder what we’re doing?”

 

“I, uh-” Leo is caught off guard because he thought they were _past_ this.

 

“You fixed my motorcycle and I met your grandmother but do you ever think about the fact that we know nothing about each other? I mean, for God’s sakes, I could be a psychopath for all you know and I just-” Nico pauses, “I don’t know what you _want_ from this. I don’t know what you’re getting from this or what you want to get from this.”

 

Leo looks uncomfortable, “I don’t know- I just, I just like being with you and talking to you. And what the hell do you mean we don’t know each other?”

 

Nico makes a face, “There’s just- you don’t understand,” and suddenly this feels like a fight even though it’s not. 

 

“We talk about everything,” Leo exclaims, facing Nico completely now. “We’ve talked about card games and school and cars and place’s we’ve lived and TV shows and people and music and a shitton of other things I can’t think of on the spot.”

 

“But it doesn’t count,” Nico remarks, frustrated.

 

“Nico, what’s wrong?” Leo raises an eyebrow. And the look in Leo’s eyes reminds Nico of the _other_ reason why he’s angry.

 

Nico’s eyes flash, “I’m not some car at the damn Auto Shop, Leo. You can’t just reset the carbrater, or whatever, and expect to _fix_ me.”

 

Leo mutters, “You mean, carburetor.”

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“You know, the carburetor? It mixes the fuel and the air in the en-”

 

“ _Leo,”_ Nico groans, “Will you shut up for five goddamn minutes?”

 

Leo scowls, “If you’re going to try and insult my work, do it right. And, I’m not an idiot Nico. I know you’re not a damn car.”

 

“Really? Then stop trying to fix me,” Nico snarls. “Stop feeling guilty and stop trying to protect me from everything.”

 

“What the _hell_ is up with you today?” Leo cries.

 

Nico curls his hands into fists because he feels like he’s actually losing it. “I-I don’t know,” he whispers, his eyes darting everywhere.

 

“Goddammit, Nico, I love you,” Leo blurts out and he curses himself internally because this is not how he wanted it to come out. Nico’s face flushes a deep red and Leo can see Nico is clenching his jaw. “You can’t just expect me to sit here and watch you, be in pain all the time and be okay with it. You have to – you have to let me in for real if we want to get past this.”

 

Nico takes a step back, gripping the hair near his temples, “Y-you can’t just _say_ things like that. Like, it’s okay or something.” Leo knows that Nico is trying to push him away, but Nico’s eyes reveal the fear he feels inside.

 

Leo reaches his hand out to Nico’s temple, covering his other hand. Slowly, he clasps Nico’s fingers and brings his hand down. Nico’s dark eyes are searching. “I know this is a shit time and shit place but I love your crazy ass, Nico.”

 

And Nico feels like the world is spinning three thousand times faster. Even though it’s well below freezing outside, he doesn’t have enough room to breathe and his skin is on fire. He feels dizzy and Leo isn’t supposed to be saying this and Nico’s let this go too far. Because Leo doesn’t love him – not really. Leo can’t love him – not really.

 

Nico’s ‘I love you’s’ send people to the grave.

 

And this is too much. This is all too much and he doesn’t want to deal with it right now.

 

So, he does the only thing he’s sure of.

 

He runs.

 

And runs.

 

And runs.

 

He knows that Leo is fast, but he’s faster. So, he runs to the only place Leo won’t step inside.

 

****

“Nico, what the hell?” Hazel raises an eyebrow after his incessant banging on his front door.

 

He knows he must look absolutely wrecked because he’s sobbing and he’s probably caught hypothermia but he doesn’t care. Because he needs to escape for a little bit.

 

Nico doesn’t say anything as Hazel opens the door wider so he can walk in. They walk through the foyer and the kitchen to a secluded living room. Her house smells like peppermint room spray and chocolate chip cookies. A nicely-sized Christmas tree decorated with extravagant ornaments stands majestically in the corner. She lets him cry as she makes him a cup of hot chocolate, commenting on the icy feel of his skin. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. Everything,” he mutters bitterly.

 

She purses her lips, “I’m gonna need a bit more than that.”

 

The doorbell rings immediately as she speaks, though, so she orders, “Don’t move.”

 

Nico studies the dark blue mug in his hands. He takes a small sip, ignoring the scalding, burning sensation it leaves on his tongue. His steaming cup of hot chocolate warms his body but he wishes that it could warm his soul.

 

And he ignores the voice in his head that tells him that he _has_ someone who does warm his soul, even though he doesn’t deserve it.

 

Hazel walks back into the room, arms crossed. “Nico, why are you running away from Leo Valdez?”

 

Nico’s face becomes paler, “W-what? I don’t even know who that is.”

 

“He just showed up on my doorstep worried out of his _mind_ looking for you,” Hazel responds tiredly. “You have about three seconds to explain.”

 

“He’s here?” Nico stands up, ready to sprint again.

 

Hazel presses a hand on his shoulder, “No, I told him that I hadn’t seen you.”

 

“Why would you do that?”

 

Hazel frowns, as though no other option had occurred to her, “Because, well, I needed to talk to you first.”

 

Nico sighs in relief as he sits back down, ignoring the guilt in his heart.

 

“Is he- is he hurting you or something? How do you even know him?” Hazel presses.

 

Nico shakes his head quickly, “No. He’s not hurting me. He makes me euphoric. He loves me. And I- I love him, I think.”

 

“So, what’s the problem?” Hazel quirks an eyebrow. Suddenly her eyes go wide, “Wait, a second. You’re the regular, aren’t you?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re the kid that calls, like, every night at 3:25. Oh my God, you’re calling Leo, aren’t you? Oh my God, he’s fucking you, isn’t he?” Hazel puts the pieces together.

 

Nico scrunches up his nose, “Well, yeah, but- that’s not what the problem is-”

 

“He’s gonna get in serious trouble if anyone finds out! He’ll get fired instantly, maybe even jail time,” Hazel gasps, “Is that why you’re upset? Did someone find out?”

 

“No,” Nico says, frustrated, “And no one is going to find out.” He tries to keep the panic out of his voice, but Leo never mentioned anything about jail. “Because I’m- I’m leaving.”

 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

 

“I need to leave, I – I’m no good for him. And, he thinks he loves me but he can’t love me,” Nico shakes his head.

 

Hazel is quiet for a moment, “If this is about what I said, I didn’t mean to freak out. It’s just, the consequences are really severe.”

 

“It’s not about what you said,” Nico responds, finally meeting her eyes, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. But, I’m not happy here. But I think I can be happy if I leave, maybe.”

 

“Where will you go?”

 

Nico shrugs, “I don’t have much. Maybe go somewhere up north.” A fond smile passes his lips, “Although, I’ve always wanted to go to Europe. Or Vegas. Or maybe LA.”

 

Hazel makes a face and Nico shakes his head. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

 

“No,” Nico laughs darkly, “I’m not. But I will be.”

 

Hazel eyes him cautiously as he heads to the door, “Goodbye, Hazel. It was good to actually talk to you.” He gingerly pats the top of her head before leaving.

 

She watches as the strange boy he leaves her house, disappearing into the shadows of the night, wondering if it mattered that he said 'goodbye' instead of 'goodnight'.


	11. Before the Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is late!!! Here's the chapter for this week

Exhaustion is a curious feeling.

 

It’s different than feeling merely _tired_ , or _sleepy._

 

You feel exhaustion in your bones. It’s the physical incapability to stay awake, to remain conscious for a moment longer.

 

And yet, he does anyway.

 

:Leo’s upper lids yearns for his lower lids as he gazes lifeless into the monitor in front of him. He watches, in a middle ground between conscious and subconscious, as flecks of dust settle on the pixelated screen. The cursor blinks, he takes a breath, and the phone doesn’t ring yet.

 

He should have realized the oddity – the phone has been surprisingly quiet tonight.

 

He ignores the feeling in the pit of his stomach because something doesn’t feel right. His stomach feels like he’s sick. And it feels like Sunday night when you can’t remember if you are forgetting a homework assignment. He’s missing something. He’s missing something.

 

He glances up at the clock on the wall, even though his monitor has a digital clock in the bottom corner, finding solace in the steady _tic-tic-tic_ of the second hand. He blinks, not quite comprehending, as the longer hand moves from a 1 to a 3.

 

He hears his name; her shrill voice pierces the still air. His arms turn his chair around and her colorful eyes are terrified. Her mouth is open and her face is heated in frustration.

 

Her mouth is moving but the sound hits his ears like molasses. The next thing he knows, he’s clutching onto his desk for support, his eyes are on the blurry floor and his cheek stings. He hesitantly raises a hand and feels a welt shaped like a hand forming.

 

He blinks and the tiles on the floor focus into distinct black and white shapes. He sits himself upright on the chair and grumbles, “What the hell, Piper?”

 

She scoffs, “Are you serious right now?” She glances at Jason, who’s on a call, and he nods at her once before whispering words into the headset. Piper grips Leo’s wrist, saying, “Come with me – we need to talk.” Quickly tugging off his headset, Leo follows her into the coatroom. She glimpses at Jason through the glass, windowed door before looking at Leo once again, “Okay, dude, you’re scaring us.”

 

Leo runs a hand through his shaggy, curly hair, noting that Nico was right about his hair, “What are you talking about?”

 

“What am I talking about?” she crosses her arms, “Okay, let’s talk about you staring at the clock for ten minutes straight and murmuring ‘What time is it’. Or maybe we should start with falling asleep at work three days in a row. Me and Jason have been forwarding _your_ calls because you’re not answering! Or the fact that-”

 

She pauses, swallowing and Leo catches something in her eye. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

 

And Leo isn’t sure if she means ‘her and Jason’ or the ‘Crisis Center’ so he mumbles, “Of course not,” and studies Piper’s sheepskin boots like an exam.

 

 “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” she tries again, lifting Leo’s chin so he’s forced to at least look at her face, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

 

He’s ready to lie again, when his breath catches. Because her colorful eyes aren’t really asking him a question – she already knows the answer. She’s giving him a chance. And he really does have a _lot_ of things he needs to tell her. But, he _can’t_. So he repeats, “No, Piper, I don’t have anything to tell you.”

 

Her jaw sets and her eyes become daggers; she lets her hand fall from his face. “Chiron isn’t happy with you, y’know. They’ve been keeping more detailed phone records and your log doesn’t match up.” Leo furrows his brow, so she snaps, “They know, okay? Look, if you don’t want to tell me your business, whatever, man. But there’s a regular caller and they know you’re talking to her for quite a while.”

 

Leo cringes and bites his tongue to prevent himself from correcting Piper.

 

Piper’s eyes soften, “They can trace the call, Leo. You could lose your job. Look, if they find anything concrete – this could be bad. Really, bad, actually. I don’t know the details but, please just- just think of yourself for a second, okay?”

 

Her words are laced with concern and Leo isn’t sure what to say so he croaks out, “Alright, I will,” which makes her hopeful eyes dull.

 

The conversation is over, so Leo offers her a half-smile and pushes past the door, back to his station. He hears Jason whisper, “Did it work?” and Piper shakes his head and this makes Leo really annoyed for some reason.

 

He fidgets in his chair and his mind returns to that sinking feeling. The clock reads 3:21 and naturally, his mind wanders to his most recent encounter with boy who calls every night at 3:25 – it had only been a few hours earlier…

 

_Nico’s apartment was the cleanest Leo had ever seen it. The bags, the takeout, the littered books and clothes – everything was clean and pristine. “Nico?” Leo called out as he kicked his boots into the corner._

_He heard a crash from the bathroom just before Nico padded across the living room to reach the foyer. “What the- how did you-”_

_“You didn’t lock your door,” Leo frowned, “What’s going on?”_

_Nico peeled off his purple gloves and shrugged, “Cleaning.”_

_Leo’s face is incredulous, “It’s nearly midnight – and I’ve been calling you for three days. Why- did I do something?”_

_“Just call me Cinderella,” Nico tries, but Leo doesn’t find it very funny. He sighs, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Leo. I swear, it’s not you, it’s- I just- I needed to clean everything.”_

_“So you run away from me, ignore my calls, because you needed to clean?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Leo purses his lips, “Why?”_

_Nico doesn’t answer him, though. His eyes are far away as he looks at the moon through his window, “Did I ever tell you about Sunday picnic?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“There’s a lake near the park where I took you. Me, mom, and Bianca’d spend every Sunday morning the same – we’d go to the lake first. We’d eat sandwiches made of prosciutto and cut up into triangles, ‘cause they tasted better that way, and drink from grape juice boxes. And Bianca’d beg to braid mom’s hair and I’d throw pieces of lettuce into the lake for the tadpoles. And then, we’d play at the playground for hours.”_

_And Leo doesn’t know what to say._

_Nico blinks, looking at Leo, “We’d only go after our rooms were clean and I- I just remembered that I’d left this place a mess and it didn’t feel right.” But Nico knows that Leo isn’t quite buying it. He really wishes Leo would stop looking at him like that._

_Nico brushes a long curl out of Leo’s face, “You could use a haircut,” and smiles at him but his eyes are still dark._

_‘This is all wrong,’ Leo thinks, but he can’t say anything. Because nothing feels right, at the moment. Nico’s there, but he isn’t. He’s calm, eerily calm. He’s smiling but for some reason, Leo can tell that he is worlds away from happiness. Leo was expecting tears, anger, an emotional breakdown. He expected Nico’s rage or open sadness or bitterness. This wasn’t right._

_“What are you doing?” Leo sucks a breath in, eyes narrowed._

_For half a millisecond, Nico falters. “Just needed a change – that’s all, Leo.” His eyes fall to the floor, “I’m sorry I ran away. I just – I was just terrified and I’m sorry if I hurt you.” The tremor in his voice sounds genuine and so Leo believes him, not fully convinced that it’s the entire story._

_“But don’t think for a moment,” Nico whispers, resting both hands on Leo’s shoulders, “Not for a moment, that I don’t love you, because I do.”_

_And Leo wants to hit the reset button because the words sound wrong as they roll off Nico’s tongue. Like hearing an entire song played in its minor key. Like someone trying to use leaded gasoline in a car built for unleaded. Nico’s never been this open about his feelings or this overt or this goddamn calm._

_“Nico-”_

_But, he’s interrupted by a chaste kiss against his lips. They break apart for a moment and Leo sees it in Nico’s eyes – the wistfulness, the regret, but worst of all, the terror. Nico murmurs, “Please, just – please,” against Leo’s lips. Because he doesn’t want to talk right now. He doesn’t want to feel anything except for Leo._

_Hating himself, Leo obliges. He lets Nico kiss him (and he kisses him back). And they make love, but it’s not as sweet and tender as before. Instead, each peppered kiss, every distinct sigh, every harmonious movement is tinged with desperation and melancholy._

_And Leo lays beside Nico, under his dark plum sheets, and he wants to scream out “SOMETHING IS WRONG” but saying it out loud makes it real. So he bites his lip and pretends that he doesn’t hear Nico cry, instead, pulling the Italian boy closer – using his body to communicate the words he can’t utter._

_Because Nico just needs a bit more time. And then, everything will be fine._

_*_

_Leo pulls his clothes back on, getting ready for his shift. He’s not sure if Nico is asleep, but he uses the pale moonlight to dress himself. He knocks over a toy soldier and Nico snorts, “Smooth.”_

_“You’re still awake?” Leo raises an eyebrow, hopping into his jeans._

_Nico shrugs before sitting up. The moon’s light washes over him, accentuating his dark eyes. His pale skin looks nearly translucent and it’s mesmerizing. “You’re leaving now?”_

_“I’ll be back soon,” Leo notes, “Soon as my shift’s over, okay?”_

_Nico doesn’t say anything immediately. “It’s really, um, brave – what you do.”_

_“Not really,” Leo shakes his head._

_“I mean it,” Nico looks up at Leo, “Um, thank you.”_

_“For what?”_

_“All sorts of things,” Nico sighs, resting his head on his headboard._

_Leo laces up his boot before stepping toward Nico’s side of the bed. Placing a kiss on Nico’s forehead, he notes, “You need to sleep.”_

_“Believe me, I’ll get some,” Nico replies, and he can’t help the slight flush that crosses his features._

_Leo tucks his phone into his back pocket as he makes his way to the door because he’s going to be late for work again. “See you later, alright?”_

_“Goodbye, Leo,” Nico answers, looking into the palms of his hand._

_“Why’d you say goodbye?” Leo wrinkles his brow, “I’ll be back when you wake up, I promise.”_

_Nico doesn’t answer but Leo sees an urgent text from Piper and he really can’t stay a minute longer. So, he blows Nico a kiss, and mentally notes to make this up to Nico when he returns._

***

Sitting at his desk, a chill runs through Leo’s spine.

 

Because something isn’t merely wrong.

 

It’s 3:25 and it’s the first time Nico doesn’t call. No text. No message. No ring.

 

The phone looks back at him, teasing. Dust collects on the monitor’s screen. Bitter coffee becomes cold beside his keyboard.

 

And yet, the exhaustion has completely been drained of Leo.

 

Because something isn’t just wrong – it’s catastrophic.

 

The minute hand reads 3:26.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and review. Thanks for reading - you're lovely!


	12. Out to Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely triggering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, this chapter is entirely triggering. I will post a summary of the chapter at the very end for those who need it. Please, though, I'm warning you THIS CHAPTER IS VERY TRIGGERING. FROM START TO END. PLEASE SKIP TO THE END

‘Breathe in,’ Nico di Angelo whispers to himself, ‘Breathe out.’

 

It had been exactly 150 seconds since Leo closed the door to his apartment. Still beneath his dark plum sheets, Nico heard the _click_ of the handle into place. A cloud shifted in the early morning sky, shielding the moon. Nico squints, sitting up in his bed, seeing only ominous figures where familiar furniture stands. He pushes aside his comforter and a chill runs through his body – he’s never realized how cold his room was.

 

He steps onto the carpet, immediately reaching for his boxers before pausing. Nico straightens himself and pads over to the bathroom. The water for the shower is cold when he twists the silver faucet so he leans against the wall while the water heats up. On the countertop, he sees a new, brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide and for instant, Leo is there with him. He remembers that first night – the night that he knew that everything changed – when Leo came over and fixed his hand. Instinctively, his left hand brushes over the remaining scar. It’s tiny and miniscule and impossible to see in the dark, but he can feel the ridge as his thumb grazes over the area.

 

Nico steps into the shower when the water is warmer than it was before. He still feels _cold, cold, cold_ though, when he lets the water cover his skin. He scrubs his skin raw with his loofah and trusty bar soap – the steam from the shower blurs his vision and causes difficulty of sight. He still feels cold, though, as the droplets pelt him.

 

Stepping out of the shower, Nico towel-dries his hair and catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror; for some reason, he wants to cry and break the mirror into a thousand shards at the same time.

 

The chill air of the apartment, further emphasized by its darkness, clings to Nico’s bare flesh as he walks back to his room. “ _Shit,”_ he shrieks, breaking the quiet stillness, as a sharp pain throbs on the sole of his foot. Looking down, he sees his old toy soldier on the floor. Fondly, he smiles at it half-heartedly before placing it on his dresser once more. He pulls on his favorite, black boxer briefs, black jeans, and black T-shirt.

 

The cloud blocking the moon shifts slightly and Nico catches his reflection again. His eyes are still rimmed red, yet they seem more energized than usual. They are wide and slightly agitated – the eyes of a wild man. His lips are chapped and his skin more sickly than ever. His frame looks gaunt; it’s rather silly in comparison to the black bird’s nest that he calls hair.

 

‘ _You can stop this,’_ he hears in his head, ‘ _You can go back under the covers. Make hot chocolate and ham sandwiches. Cuddle. Don’t you want that?’_

But a low, snide whisper interjects, ‘ _No. No, you know you can’t. You never will.’_

Nico laces his black converse up and out of habit, reaches for his aviator jacket. He runs a finger over the buttons, remembering when they used to seem too large for him. The jacket’s always been a little oversized on him but now, it seems to fit him perfectly. For an instance, he thinks that he doesn’t want it to get ruined. But then, as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he smiles wistfully because it doesn’t _matter_ that his jacket will get ruined.

 

Nico feels his hands tremble and his knees buckle as he shuffles through his kitchen because this doesn’t feel real. The carpet is moving, like the sea. He feels warm – really warm. His stomach is a sailboat in the midst of a hurricane. His heart is the rapid fluttering of a hummingbird’s wing, flying higher and higher. As he stands in the doorway, he glances back at his neat apartment.

 

_“Love you, little brother…”_

 

He leaves his keys and his phone behind.

 

*****

In retrospect, Nico thinks as he clutches his hands together in the December air, this was supposed to be a lot more poetic.

 

The wind is pleading, shifting the fallen snow around, and shielding the prints his shoes make in the white. It’s at his back, pushing him, encouraging him. _This is easy_ , he thinks, _easy_.

 

It’s not cold. It’s not bitter. It is _ice._ It’s the chilling, dark feeling you get when someone strikes a nerve. And it’s all around him. It’s everywhere.

 

There isn’t a car in sight as he treads softly past the parking lot and down the road. The sky, although he’s in the three o’clock hour, is marbled mix of lavender and white. The moon shines brightly, illuminating his path, although a pink cloud threatens to conceal it once again.

 

He wishes he was not the embodiment of literally ‘freezing cold’ because that’s not poetic at all. The shifting snow blocks his vision and his nose starts to run a little and he’s only clad in the thin clothes he left the house in and he feels goosebumps on his legs and his back and his arms and his face and even in the crevices between his neck and his shoulder..

 

And the walk is a lot farther than it was supposed to be and he squints his eyes to make out the playground that he and Leo visited the other day. A reminiscent smile breaks out across his frozen face and he halts to a stop. “M’sorry,” he murmurs as his eyes gaze upon the fading remains of their footsteps. “’M really sorry,” he chokes out, voice low. Around him, the ominous shadows of the swing set and carousel grow larger as the moonlight dims. Nico glances up, seeing where the cloud has invaded the moon. His breath catches in his throat but his eyes are empty of tears.

 

‘ _You can go back,’_  a voice says softly, and Nico realizes why it’s familiar now. It’s the voice on the telephone – the one he heard so long ago. But it’s quiet. It’s getting quiet. ‘ _Talk to me. You’re strong.’_

The other voice returns and for a horrifying moment, Nico stops. Because he realizes the second voice is his own but snarled, mangled, and monstrous. ‘ _No,’_ the voice growls, louder, _‘Keep GOING! This is just like you, you never see anything through. You coward. You disgust me and everyone.”_ And the voice sounds like choir, a chant. It’s getting stronger.

 

Nico pushes himself back up, crawling over the fence on the other side of the playground. The weeds and grasses are all covered in snow – it’s a mystical, little wonderland.

 

His feet crunch on the dead, wild grasses. He finds hidden rocks and burrows as he wades through the white sea. And then, he swears his heart stops when he sees it.

 

Because it’s real now. It’s all real. Because it wasn’t real before and now it is and he doesn’t want to do this.

 

The lake’s frozen surface reflects the violet sky and the moon is completely gone. It is completely flat and placid, unmoving. And it beckons him.

 

And all he can hear in his head is the _CRASH_

_CRASH_

_CRASH_

And this reminds him of the night of snow globe but it’s different because he’s all alone and no bandage can fix this wound.

 

 _‘DO IT,’_ the voice snarls in his mind.

 

“Stop it,” Nico growls, eyes shut, with his hands over his ears.

 

Then, it’s softer, “ _You know you have to. It’s the right thing to do.”_

And Nico knows it’s right. So, when he opens his eyes, he is standing on the edge of the lake. There’s a thin layer of snow across the top, providing some traction.

 

He takes a step forward, each movement purifying him.

 

 _Crack,_ the ice groans as he lifts his foot.

 

“’m sorry,” he mumbles. He can see his breath, crystallized in front of him and _dammit_ it’s more than cold.

 

 _Creak,_ the ice shrieks as he puts pressure onto the same foot, lifting the other.  

 

“’m so sorry,” he sighs because he is running out of breath in his lungs. He feels so stupid, _so stupid,_ and he wishes he could be back in his bed and she would bring him hot chocolate or something.

 

_Crack._

He hadn’t realized how tired he was.

 

_Creak._

He held his breath for a moment because it shifted his weight too much and now there is a line through the ice appearing from the toe of his foot.

 

He wants to be home. He wants to go home. For real.

 

_Craaaack._

 

And all he sees is her mangled body and the doctor’s somber look and his mother never got to kiss him goodbye and why didn’t his father ever come back for them and why didn’t they have enough money and Leo doesn’t really love him because Leo’s getting scared and Nico wishes that they never met sometimes because it would make things a lot easier and most of all he feels so, so, so stupid and he _can’t_ fight anymore. It’s not fair to ask any more of him because he was a valiant, little soldier but even Achilles had a breaking point and he just _can’t_ anymore.

 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” he finds himself murmuring over and over again and if he had tears, they would be streaming down his face. Because he’s lost it. “I’ve completely lost it,” and thank _gods_ no one else is here or else his babbles alone would get him institutionalized and he hates himself so much.

 

_Creaaaak._

 

This was supposed to be poetic but really, he’s just a stupid, cold kid in the middle of a stupid, cold lake in a tiny town in this stupid, cold world.

 

And he’s far enough in the lake that he can’t change his mind. So, Nico sits himself in the middle of the icy lake. And this wasn’t part of the plan because he was supposed to fall already. But maybe the ice is too thick for some reason and he lets out a strangled, insane laugh. Because this is the _one_ thing he wasn’t supposed to fuck up.

 

And somehow, he has.

 

Nico hugs his knees because every cell in his body is frantic for warmth. Even at the end, his body is fighting to keep him okay. The voices in his head have gone silent, so Nico tries to fill the void.

 

And it’s supposed to be poetic, but the only song in his head is some shitty pop music that he hates and as much as taps the tune by an Icelandic pianist, he can’t get the stupid pop song out of his head.

 

“Great,” he mutters aloud, “I’m going to die and the last song I have in my head is freaking Selena Cyrus.”

 

And even though his bones were literally ice, Nico feels even colder than before.

 

It’s the first time he says it aloud.

 

“I’m going to die,” Nico whispers again, playing with the words as they roll off his tongue.

 

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to _die_ ,” he continues, not sure if he is terrified or excited. Because it hits him like that truck – one moment he’ll be alive and the next he won’t.

 

And fuck, he still hasn’t learned how to skydive because as cliché as it is, the sky has always intrigued him and now it’s too late. It’s too late.

 

His breaths are shallow and his heartbeat is a hummingbird again. His stomach is a blender set to high and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t puke right there in the lake.

 

“I’M GOING TO DIE!” he screeches, as loud as his lungs can allow him. Nico’s fists bang on the ice beside him and there it is. His lips are parted from his last, hysterical laugh.

 

As he plunges, he is on fire.

 

Walking through the snow had been a tropical resort compared to this.

 

The piercing cold sets his skin on fire. Every minuscule nook and cranny of his being is stabbed with blades. His skin feels like its bleeding.

 

His body is immediately in shock because he can’t swim and he knows it. And even though his mind says one thing, his body isn’t giving up.

 

He hands grasp aimlessly and he couldn’t scream if he wanted to because he can’t even breathe. His leg feels as though it’s being pulled down further into the water. His head is submerged completely and all he sees is blackness. And out of habit, he’s held as much air as he can within his lungs. But they are on fire. His head feels dizzy.

 

The air he saved up in his mouth isn’t cutting it anymore because his body _needs_ to breathe. His body is fighting, struggling so hard to live but it just can’t. And it’s just so cold and his legs are blocks of lead, trying to float.

 

Nico feels really dizzy and he can’t move his hands or his legs anymore.

 

When his chest is the inside of a volcano, Nico knows this is it.

 

His reflexes override his thought and he takes a breath. As the water invades his throat, he can’t help but sputter and cough, trying to eliminate the even stronger burning sensation in his chest. But it’s worse because he just breathes in more water.

 

And this is painful and this hurts and it’s not poetic at all.

 

And then his hummingbird heart slows down. Nico feels strangely calm, at ease. His vision is illuminated and his mind races, but in a peaceful way. He remembers Sunday picnic and extra pickles on his hamburgers and that time he won a Spelling Bee and meeting Leo that one time and losing his virginity and he is calm…

 

For the first time in a long time, he feels happy.

 

For the first time in a long time, he feels serene.

 

For the first time in a long time, he feels soothed.

 

The bad memories are gone…all gone…

 

He’s floating, or soaring - higher and higher.

 

As his lips are parted with the trace of his last breath, Nico doesn’t feel anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico, finally too exhausted, waits for Leo to leave before sneaking out of his house and going to the lake near the playground. Though he struggles with whether or not he truly wants to kill himself, he ultimately convinces himself that he has to. Nico walks along the frozen lake and the ice breaks. He drowns.
> 
> Also, if you ever find yourself with depressed or suicidal thoughts, PLEASE REACH OUT TO OTHER PEOPLE. Tell your parents or teachers or friends or anonymous calling websites. Please, never feel like you're not good enough. Because people love you and I love you.


	13. the sky may be falling, but the stars look good on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock ticks by and Leo's still waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is relatively mild, so it should be safe to read. Also, thanks to all those who have read and shared and generally supported this story. IT'S NOT OVER YET! I REPEAT, THIS STORY IS NOT OVER

The heavy doors burst open, revealing a bright, white light. A lanky young man in a bright orange vest holds the door open as another man, who resembles him begins to wheel in the large, yellow stretcher.

 

_(I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead)_

 

“Sir, stand back, please,” a nurse gently budges Leo toward the corner. He nearly trips on a thick, yellow cord.

 

This isn’t real.

 

“Sir, _sir,_ ” one of the EMTs insists, “You’re going to have to calm down, please. If you want to remain in the room, we have to ask that you cannot interfere with care.”

 

This doesn’t feel real. He is a molecule of the air or a floating particle dust. The sounds waft over his ears and even though his eyes work fine, he can’t see anything, really. He feels his lips open and close but he’s not certain if he’s saying anything.

 

The man with light hair, Percy the Physician’s Assistant Trainee, Dr. Reyna, a nurse, the physician, and the other three EMTs lift the boy into the trauma gurney, as someone barks, “Adolescent boy fell through an ice lake to be submerged in waters approximately 4 degrees Celsius. He’s exhibiting symptoms of respiratory impairment, cardiovascular arrhythmias, and impaired consciousness as a result of hypothermia and liquid immersion. We were able to re, _ow,”_

“Sorry,” Percy mutters as he attempts to assist in cutting off the pale boy’s clothes.

 

The EMT continues, “able to resuscitate him in the ambulance but he remains unconscious. Furthermore, he has begun to demonstrate Vestibular Tachycardia. And so-”

 

“Doctor? The patient is in Vestibular Fibrillation,” the lab technician interrupts.

 

“Preparefor defibrillation,” Reyna orders smoothly as the defibrillator is wheeled to her. “How long was he submerged?” she demands, rubbing the paddles together.

 

Leo can’t bring himself to look at Nico – if he does, the room will get to hot, hotter than it is right now. So, he focuses on the monitor beside the head surgeon. He knows more about hospitals than most boys his age – the fact that Nico’s heart monitor looks like a 3 year old scribbled on it instead of patterned peaks isn’t a good thing.

 

“CLEAR!” Reyna calls just before pressing the two paddles to Nico’s chest. Although he knows better, Leo is expecting a jerk, a shock, _something._

Instead, Nico’s lifeless body remains on the gurney.

 

“CLEAR!” Reyna calls again as she rubs the paddles together for a moment before placing them on Nico’s chest.

 

Leo doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he feels a little dizzy.

 

The sick, twisted part of brain feels guilty for breathing when Nico is lying there, and _shit,_ Leo wishes he hadn’t looked.

 

“He’s declining! He needs epinephrine and then we’ll start it again.”

 

Because Nico’s small, frail body is helpless, whiter than an angel. His lips are bluer than the deep ocean. He could be sleeping.

 

Leo must be sleeping because this is a nightmare. This isn’t real.

 

“What’s his pulse?”

 

“He’s stabilizing at – wait, no, _no_. No pulse.”

 

“Percy, hand those to me.”

 

There’s not enough air in the room. This is all his fault.

 

“CLEAR!”

 

He’s g-.

 

No. He’s not gone. No, he-

 

There are no words.

 

“CLEAR!”

 

A chill, so sinister, so unsettling travels down the length of his spine. Every fiber of his being has lost feeling.

 

Even though the machines whir and the electricity buzzes and the staff barks orders, the room goes quiet in Leo’s ears. His knees don’t work anymore and his chest is in flames. A wrench has literally been thrust into his ribs and twisted into his flesh.

 

“Alternate with the Lykane this time. Stabilization may be procured. What’s his pulse?”

 

Nico’s g-

 

He’s g-

 

There are no words.

 

“Will someone please restrain him _?”_

His knees don’t work anymore and Leo’s hands hit the cold, linoleum floor just in time. He wants to do everything and nothing at the same time. He wants to set himself on fire; he wants to set the world on fire. He wants to scream until his vocal cords bleed, until his heart stops. He wants to retreat into the corner and never move again. His fingernails dig into his shoulder blades.

 

_‘This is all your fault. This is all your fault.’_

 

“Hey, son, do you need to step out? Come with me.”

 

_‘This is all your fault.’_

 

“CLEAR!”

 

_‘This is all my fault.’_

 

The nurse face falters for a moment as he makes eye contact with Leo. For a second, the nurse looks blatantly fearful before coughing, “ Uh, sir?”

 

Leo isn’t paying much attention. Because if Nico is-

Gone.

 

And if Nico is gone, then what is the point of anything really?

 

“CLEAR!”

 

The room is dead silent for a moment; Leo wishes this stillness could last forever.

 

_(I think I made you up inside my head)_

 

Because in the silence, he hears it.

 

He hears the gradual, quiet ‘ _beep’_ on the monitor

 

He hears a shallow, but definite inhalation of oxygen.

 

He hears the feeble but resilient thump of a heart willing itself to survive.

 

*****

The sound he hears next is less pleasant. From Nico’s throat erupts the most heart-wrenching groan ever to pierce the stillness.

 

“He needs to be rewarmed from hypothermia,” Percy orders before glancing at Reyna for confirmation, “Right?”

 

“Take him to the Level C heating chambers and begin the process,” Reyna commands the emergency physician. Pointing at Percy, she adds, “Take this one with you; I’ll be up there soon.”

 

Leo stands up, hands still shaking, as each of the staff members attends to their task. The nurse smiles tightly at him, “This way, please.”

 

He feels his arm being tugged gently, his feet step but he doesn’t feel like he’s moving.

 

The Emergency Room waiting room is crowded with people. A fussy baby yanks at her father’s glasses. A little boy clutches his arm, biting back tears as his mothers whisper sweet reassurances in his ear. A girl around his age sits with her mother with tears in her – oh, no.

 

“Leo? Leo Valdez?” she shrieks, “W-what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

 

He can’t deal with this right now.

 

The nurse pats him and mumbles something – Leo thinks it’s supposed to be reassuring but he can’t tell.

 

“Wait, I’d like a word,” Hazel’s mother calls before the nurse leaves, “I’m one of the boy’s father’s – I’m a good friend of the boy’s father.” They move off to the side as Hazel walks closer to Leo.

 

“Leo?” Hazel insists, “Leo, what happened? Do you know what happened to Nico?”

 

Leo blinks and the image of Hazel sways in front of him. “Nico.”

 

Hazel winces at the incredibly flat tone of his voice. Usually, Leo is the one bouncing with such energy and he looks, well, void. “I wanna believe the best of you, Leo, I do but-” she pauses, making a unnatural noise, “I don’t know what to think, here. We get a call about medical records and next thing you know I’m f-finding out my brother is in the h-hospital and he might not make it and he was terrified of you days ago and, and…” She drops her hands, shaking her head. “J-just, you need to tell me the truth. W-what’s been going on?”

 

“Save the story time for later,” a voice cuts in sharply, “Just tell us how he is. And actually, tell _me_ how come you’re in the trauma room and I’m not.” The woman is beautiful. She smells like roses and her multi-colored eyes sparkle like a field of lilies. “Persephone, the evil stepmother.”

 

And that triggers a memory about Nico in Leo’s head…

 

_Nico twirls a French fry in his fingers, “Yup, dad’s not in the picture so it’s just me and Sef.”_

_“Sef?” Leo raises an eyebrow._

_“I told you,” Nico groans, “evil stepmother, Persephone.”_

_Leo nods, “Hm, childhood strife, evil stepmother, you sound like quite the Disney princess.”_

_The glare Nico gives Leo could severely disturb a small child._

_Leo laughs, “Oh, come on.”_

_Nico doesn’t blink and the French fry falls from his fingers._

_“No need to get all worked up, Cinderella,” Leo can’t help but add, his lips twitching to form a grin._

_Nico pushes himself out of the booth, scowling._

_“Ni-co,” Leo laughs, chasing after the other boy. When he finally does reach Nico, because damn Nico is a fast walker, Leo tugs on his hand a bit, “You’re not really mad at me, are you?”_

_“You just called me a Disney princess – freaking Cinderella, at that.”_

_“Vendetta against Cinderella?”_

_“If you’re going to tease me, at least do it right, asshole,” Nico crosses his arms, “I’m Megara, you idiot.”_

_Leo rolls his eyes, “I knew you weren’t actually mad.”_

_“I am very upset, thank you,” Nico glares at Leo but the twinge of a smile returns to his lips._

_“I’m sorry, Princess-”_

_“Don’t call me that!”_

 

_“-But just get your ass back inside, okay? I’m still waiting on a coke refill and you haven’t finished your fries yet.”_

_Nico almost protests before pursing his lips, “I’m only coming back for the French fries. Although, I’m telling you, Mc Donald’s still has this place beat.”_

A snap in front of his face yanks him harshly into the present.

 

“Maybe you should sit down,” Hazel murmurs, guiding Leo into a chair.

 

“S’all my fault,” Leo chokes out, “It’s all my fault.”

 

 “How is this your fault, kid?” Persephone crinkles her brow. “Nico’s the one who thought it’d be a fun idea to play on thin ice – literally.”

 

The tremors in Leo’s hand return. “I thought I could help him. I thought I could fix him. I needed to fix him.”

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

Leo grits his teeth, “I was supposed to help him. I- This is all my fault. It’s all mine.” He feels the acid in his stomach churn, threatening to crawl up his esophagus.

 

“Leo, it isn’t-”

 

“Yes it _is,_ ” Leo cuts in icily, “Don’t you see?” His voice gets faster as he gets more desperate and his breaths get shorter and his eyes dart madly as he spits, “I’m what’s _wrong_. I should have- dammit, I wish I just stayed away. I. Can’t. Fix. _Anything._ And he’s there. And he’s not okay and I’m not okay. And I should never have- it’s all my fault and you’re gonna hate me-”

 

“Leo, I don’t-”

 

“Yes. You’ll hate me ‘cause I hate me because I just make every,” he hiccups, “single, thing worse. I never should’ve gone there. I can’t save him. I didn’t save him, I-”

 

The thought hits Leo like an old memory. Like how tobacco reminds you of your grandfather. Like how that class photo reminds you of the girl who haven’t seen since middle school, only to learn that she died a few months ago. Like how Nico’s empty prescription bottles match Leo’s mother’s.

 

“I killed him, like I killed her.”

 

Hazel’s hand covers her mouth, “W-wh-what?”

 

Leo shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I think, I think they brought him back. B-but, it doesn’t matter because his heart stopped beating. And- and he wanted it to stop, just like my mom.”

 

“Why would you say that?” Hazel scrunches up her face.

 

The cold, white, linoleum floors meets Leo’s shameful gaze. The tiles have little grey flecks in them, though, so they’re not really white. And every four blocks, there’s a red block. But, he stops counting tiles in the floor because blue, covered shoes shuffle behind the desk. She taps away into the computer; enters another patient into the database. She must have no idea.

 

“Did you know that most hospitals skip the thirteenth floor? The numbering goes from 12 to 14. Lots of people think 13 is an unlucky number,” Leo says instead.

 

“Leo,” Hazel repeats, slowly, “Why would you say that?”

 

“It was October 13 when my mother made sure she’d never wake up again. And it was October 13 when I got a call from a boy at the center. And I was so, so, _stupid_ to think I could change a damn thing.”

 

Hazel’s eyes widen in understanding, “He called the center and that’s how you two met and you’ve been seeing him, haven’t you?”

 

 “I messed up,” Leo mutters, “I messed up so bad and- I can’t fix it.” He shakily pushes himself off of the hard, waiting room chairs.

 

“Son, where are you going?” Hazel’s mother says as she returns to the others in the waiting room.

 

Leo stops in his tracks, but doesn’t turn around. “Tell him I’m sorry, okay?”

 

“Leo! You’re coming back, right? I mean, you can’t just- Leo, stop,” Hazel cries.

 

“Hazel,” her mother frowns, “What’s going on here?”

 

Leo shakes his head, “I was stupid and I was selfish and I can’t _be_ that anymore. I – I’m no good for him.” He wants to add ‘for anyone’ but he doesn’t need Hazel doting on him, too.

 

Persephone, who had been oddly quietly the last few minutes, reaches for Hazel’s forearm. “Honey-”

 

Hazel flicks Persephone’s arm off, “Leo- I, what do I tell him?”

 

“Tell him to forget about me ‘cause he doesn’t need me. He never did.”

 

Leo feels awfully overdramatic in the worst way as he steps into the hallway of the hospital, but it had to be done.

 

He doesn’t leave the hospital, instead walking toward his abuelita’s room because she was supposed to be discharged the following morning but maybe they’d make an exception.

 

He was in desperate need of a miracle, anyways.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines in parentheses are taken from Sylvia Plath's "Mad Girl's Love Song".


	14. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals are frustrating places for frustrated people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is safe. Thank you again for all your support! Holy crap, 8K! I love each and every one of you dearly (:

Hazel watches as Leo leaves the waiting room, hands in pockets and more distraught than she’s ever seen him.

 

She sits back onto the hard, wooden chair, crossing her arms. A secular, ‘Season’s Greetings’ banner hangs in the doorway and lets out an ill-timed chuckle.

 

“What on _earth_ is funny? And what’s going on?” Hazel’s mother murmurs, eyes glued on the clock.

 

“Nothing,” Hazel shakes her head, “It’s just that – well, it’s Christmas Eve. And we’re sitting here in a hospital at 4 in the morning. It’s just…” Turning to her mother Hazel elaborates, “And about before, Leo was, y’know, _with_ Nico. They were together and then this happened and Leo feels awful. He wouldn’t, couldn’t stick around anymore.”

 

Her mother slings a lazy arm around Hazel’s shoulders, neither of them saying anything.

 

Persephone bites her lip, drumming her fingertips on the leg of her dark jeans. “I never realized-” her throat goes dry. Her eyes are itchy, but she refuses to cry. “I didn’t realize that his _condition_ was serious. I mean, he’s just a _boy_ , a _child_.”

 

Hazel’s gaze toward Persephone is stiff and calculated.

 

“I never thought, I never imagined that _this_ would happen,” she continues.

 

Hazel doesn’t say anything, but she grazes her thumb along the wrist of Persephone’s floral top. Persephone’s thankful smile is weak, but it’s there and that’s all that matters.

 

The boy clutching his arm groans louder. The baby with her father’s glasses is led down the white corridor to be seen. The TV is playing some outdated game show that no one pays much attention to anyways. The nurse at the station calls out, “Ms. Persephone, uh-”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Persephone manages lightly, ignoring the fact that the woman messed up her first name, “No one can pronounce my last name anyways.” She steps toward the desk, leaning onto the counter, “Yes?”

 

The woman squeaks, “We need some clarifications of Mister di Angelo’s insurance policies and medical records. We also need parental consent for the following procedures.” A clipboard with jibberish medical jargon littering the page is handed to Persephone.

 

“His records aren’t on file for _personal_ reasons and he’s never gotten worse than the flu before. And don’t worry about the boy’s insurance policies. I’ll take care of it,” Persephone replies breezily.

 

“Ma’am,” the nurse pushes, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to need to get your son’s records from another hospital or institution faxed-”

 

“He’s not my son,” Persephone shrieks. Immediately, she shuts her eyes from shame and feels her cheeks inflame. “I’m sorry, I-”

 

“He’s not your son?” the nurse’s eyes widen. “In that case, we need to speak with the boy’s parent or guardian immediately. Do you-”

 

Persephone shakes her head, “No, no, he _is_ my son. He’s my adopted son.”

 

The nurse looks a bit skeptical but when Persephone intensifies her glower, the nurse resumes typing frantically. “Okay, ma’am, but we still need some form of medical records. Maybe from another hospital?”

 

Persephone sighs, “Yeah, just, um, just give me, like, twenty minutes.” She takes the clipboard with her, against the nurse’s protests, and steps into the hall. She hesitates as she holds her cell phone in front of her. She holds her breath as her fingers do their old, familiar dance along the keypad. She holds the phone to her ear, sucked in by the repetitive dial tone. _Don’t pick up, don’t pick up,_ she thinks to herself.

 

A gruff voice responds, “’Lo? Why’re you calling this late? I thought I told you-”

 

“It’s your son,” she manages, “He’s – he tried to kill himself.”

 

There’s silence on the other side for a full minute and twenty seven seconds. Then, Hades responds, “That’s a sick joke.”

 

“It’s not a joke. You need to get here, now.”

 

“I’m _in Nevada_ ,” Hades mumbles, “They needed the best forensic pathologist in the country and so they called me. It’s a big case and-”

 

“This is your _son_ ,” Persephone growls, “And he almost _died_.”

 

“He wouldn’t want to talk to me,” Hades says finally from the other line, “Not after I left. And you’re as much his mother as I am his father.”

 

“So, you’re not coming then? Not even for him?”

 

“It’s better if I stay away for good. I’m not good for him,” Hades hisses, “Now, I need to go.”

 

Persephone bites back tears, “Wait, t-they need his medical records faxed over.”

 

Hades sighs in relief, “See, _that,_ I can do. I’ll have my secretary fax everything straight away. Hey, Greta, could you-”

 

The phone goes silent as Hades talks to Greta and a cold chill runs down Persephone’s spine. Because why is Hades with his secretary this late?

 

“She’s taking care of it right now,” Hades responds, his voice light, “Is there anything else?”

 

“No, Hades,” Persephone manages, “Nothing.” The line clicks dead and Persephone’s fists are clenched so hard, she has crescent-shaped indents in her palm. It takes every single fiber in her body to not burst into a pile of tears.

 

Shakily, she returns to the waiting room and walks to the nurse’s station. She coughs, “His medical information should be faxed over right about now.”

 

The nurse nods, not mentioning the redness of Persephone’s eyes. “Thank you, ma’am,” she says instead, an earnest smile on her face, “I think that’s all we need, right now.”

 

Persephone retreats to her chair just in time for Dr. Reyna herself to step into the waiting room, “Is the family of Nico di Angelo here? There are some things we need to discuss.”

 

*****

“What do you _mean_ she won’t be discharged tomorrow?” Leo growls at Dr. Brunswick.

 

Dr. Brunswick condescendingly wraps an arm around Leo, which he immediately shrugs off, “Now, now, don’t get angry, son.”

 

“Don’t call me son. Why can’t I take her home?”

 

Dr. Brunswick sighs, “Last night at approximately 10:05 pm, your grandmother suffered a thromboembolism.”

 

“What?”

 

“She had a stroke,” he clarifies, “So, I’m sorry, but you can’t take her home. She needs to remain under observation until she recovers. Now, thromboembolisms are common for someone of your grandmother’s age and mental status. And, there’s another thing, Leo.”

 

Leo toys with his fingers, the ticking of the clock on the wall seems faster and mocking. “What is it?” he says finally.

 

“You may want to consider end-of-life options-”

 

“I’m out of here,” Leo mutters as he turns his heel down the hall because right now is not the time.

 

“Mr. Valdez, wait,” Dr. Brunswick pleads, “Look, I’m not trying to upset you. But, we have to think realistically here. The prognosis isn’t looking great.”

 

“She’s all I got,” Leo explodes, “She is _literally_ all I have left. You do _not_ get to tell me that I need to think realistically, ‘kay buddy? You’re a doctor. You save her. That’s it. I’m not burying anyone else, I swear. You save her.”

 

“Believe me, Mr. Valdez, we’re doing everything we can.”

 

*******

“I’m his legal- his stepmother, Persephone,” she says as she shakes Dr. Reyna’s hand. “What’s going on, what happened?”

 

“Nico underwent a lot tonight-,” Dr. Reyna begins.

 

“He’s okay, right?” Hazel interjects. “He’s alive, right?”

 

Dr. Reyna offers a small smile, “Nico’s heart is beating, yes. See, as he was drowning, he essentially underwent a cardiac arrest. The water he was drowning in was so cold that it helped lessen the body’s need for oxygen – which is a good thing. However, it also caused a series of laryngospasms and thus cardiac arrest. Now, we were able to revive him and after several defibrillations, his ventricular fibrillation was reset and his heart returned to its normal, sinus arrhythmia.”

 

“Well, that’s great then!” Marie Levesque cries, “His heart’s back to normal.”

 

Dr. Reyna makes a face, “See, that’s where the problem lies. Although Nico’s heart is beating, the lack of oxygen has incapacitated his mental status. Now EEG scans run haven’t detected anything more than a coma, thus far, but Nico hasn’t awoken.”

 

She pauses momentarily, “He was drowning for a good while. Like I said, the water temperature helped to offset any mental irregularities, but there is a good chance that Nico may remain in a coma for a long time. If he does awake soon, there is a likely chance that he has developed severe mental disabilities. Now, I’m not saying this to scare you, but I’m just trying to prepare you for the worst case scenario.”

 

“How long until he wakes up?” Persephone asks, as she wipes her tear away.

 

“We don’t know. Matters of consciousness are hard to detect,” Dr. Reyna shrugs her shoulders, “It could be minutes, hours, days, years, we really aren’t certain. It’s more probable, however, that he will awake in a matter of hours – days at most.”

 

“C-can we see him?” Hazel  wonders as she grips her mother’s arm more tightly.

 

“He is stable now, so he’s allowed one visitor at a time,” Dr. Reyna agrees.

 

Persephone shakes her head, “No, no, you go ahead first, I, um, I need a moment or two.”

 

“Well Miss Levesque,” Dr. Reyna smiles grimly, “Right this way.”


	15. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I was a crap author the past few weeks, I thought I'd give you guys TWO chapters this weekend. Much love xx

It’s sunny outside.

 

The air smells like freshly mowed grass and there are puffy, white clouds – like the kind you see in a children’s coloring book.

 

Come to think of it, the whole scene resembles a children’s coloring book. There are large, apple trees shading the wide meadow. The grass is a rich, green – the kind that doesn’t exist in real life. The lake is a bright cerulean and perfectly beautiful ducks swim in its waters. Around him, there are piles of miniature sandwiches, cut into different shapes and sizes because prosciutto tastes better that way. There are large, red and green grapes sealed in little baggies and stuffed into the overflowing, wooden picnic basket. The blanket he sits on is of the perfectly typical checkerboard patterned variety, with red and white alternating squares. He’s clad in a loose, white T-shirt with loose white, linen pants.

 

But most importantly, there are the two people he never thought he’d see again.

 

“Bianca? M-mamma?”

 

And the words sound wrong on his lips but it’s only because he hasn’t used them in so long. He feels his eyes well up with tears because it’s here. He’s been waiting and now it’s here.

 

His sister and his mother are essentially wearing the same thing. They both wear long, white, linen dresses. The bottoms and the waists are embroidered in gold. All three of them are barefoot on the picnic blanket.

 

“My baby,” Maria croons, peppering kisses on her son’s forehead.

 

“I’ve missed you so much, Mamma,” Nico feels himself crying, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I couldn’t do it anymore. But I missed you and I love you.”

 

“I love you too, _il mio angelo_ ,” she brushes aside some of Nico’s shaggy hair and holds his head tightly into her bosom.

 

Nico never wants to let go. He inhales the faint rosy undertones of his mother’s perfume, remembers the familiar crook in her shoulder, and memorizes her face as though he’d never see it again. Her hair is streaked with bits of grey and her crow’s feet around her eyes are more pronounced but she’s as beautiful as ever.

 

“All right, all right,” Bianca grins, “I thought you loved me too.” Her long hair is pulled up into a messy updo and her dark eyes are as sparkly as ever.

 

Her grin is beaming as Nico wraps her in an inescapable embrace, “I _do_ love you. And I’m so, so, sorry, B.”

 

Bianca kisses Nico softly on the forehead, “Nico, what on earth are you sorry for?”

 

He pulls away from her, taking in the sight of her fresh, slightly flushed face, “For causing your death. If it wasn’t for me, then-”

 

“Then something else would have happened, alright?” Bianca finishes, “It was my time to go. Just like it was Mamma’s time to go.”

 

Maria sniffs before capturing her son in another embrace. “I love you, sweetie. So, does Bianca.”

 

“So, you’re not mad at me?” his voice is small as he picks a piece of grass from the ground and lets it flutter in the gentle, warm breeze.

 

“Mad at you for what?” his mother kisses away another problem of his.

 

Nico sighs, picking out another blade of grass, “I killed myself.”

 

“But you can always go back,” Bianca interjects as she pours herself a glass of golden lemonade.

 

Suddenly, Nico hears a faint, steady beeping – like the beep a bulldozer gives off or metronome on the top of chestnut piano.

 

“Go back?” Nico sits up abruptly, “Surely that’s a joke.” Glancing at his mother, as though for confirmation, Nico reiterates, “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

 

“Maybe not,” Maria sighs, “Look, doctors are gonna do whatever they can to bring you back. But until then, maybe you should consider returning-”

 

Nico shakes his head fiercely, “No way, I just got you both back. I’m not leaving.”

 

Maria shakes her head, “You know I love you more than anything, _il mio angelo-_ ”

 

“Why does that sound like good-bye?” and Nico hates the way his voice cracks as he says it.

 

“Do you remember what Mamma would do for you when you had a little, uh, what’s the word, stomach cake?” Maria runs her soft fingers through Nico’s hair as he rests his head on her lap and Nico feels warm from his forehead down to his toes. A golden, radiant feeling enraptures him.

 

“Yeah. You’d come up to my room and make me my favorite soup-”

“-Pasta e fagioli-”

 

“And we’d eat soup and play checkers and card games and I’d always win,” Nico closes his eyes, envisioning his old bedroom. “And you’d stay with me all day until I felt better.”

 

“Because you were sick, my love,” his mother continues, “And you’re sick now. You’re just a little sick in a different, way.” When Nico doesn’t say anything, she goes on, “Do you remember the funeral we went to when you were three? You might not remember…”

 

Nico nods, “Yeah, Zio Orlando.” He remembers the funeral because none of the adults would let him near the body and kept giving him toys to play with instead.

 

“He was sick, like you, too,” Maria looks off in the distance. She doesn’t say anything more, the message is clear.

 

Nico feels his face contort, “I don’t wanna be sick anymore. Why can’t you just kiss it and make it feel better?”

 

The beeping sounds nearer but not quite present in this world. It sounds like something in the back of Nico’s brain. An illusion in the periphery.

 

“I want to,” her voice catches, “Believe me, I wanted to, sweetheart. But I can’t get rid of it. That’s something that you need to by yourself, my brave little boy.”

 

“I can’t, not anymore,” Nico mutters. “I’m not ready, yet.”

 

“That’s okay, too, my son,” his mother rubs his shoulder, “But you will be. I know it.”

 

“I miss you. Both of you. All the time,” he murmurs.

 

Bianca chimes in, “Trust me, we miss you too. But we’re always watching you. And you’re gonna grow up and you’re gonna past this. And you’re gonna have a new family – one you made all on your own.” Her eyes are a little glassy, but she’s still smiling, “And we’re gonna watch you live a long life because it’s not your time, yet.”

 

Nico sniffles, “How do you know what’s gonna happen? What _new_ family?”

 

Bianca is about to answer when Maria playfully nips her elbow, “You’re gonna have to figure that out on your own.”

 

Nico glances at his sister, “I really am sorry.”

 

She offers him a genuine smile, “I know you are. And it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. It’s not your fault – none of this is.”

 

The beeping sounds closer and the edges of the picture-perfect scene start to get hazy.

 

“Is this real?” Nico says desperately as the lake starts to fade away and he can’t hear the ducks anymore, “Or is it all in my head?”

 

“Of course it’s happening in your head, Nico,” Bianca snorts, “but who’s to say that it isn’t real?”

 

“Now is _not_ the time to be quoting Harry Potter, B,” Nico rolls his eyes as the sandwiches disappear.

 

Maria places her hand on Nico’s and for a moment, he’s warm, “She’s right, though.”

 

“No, no, Mamma, I’m not ready!” Nico shrieks.

 

She smiles but Nico has to squint too see it. Her voice starts to sound, faraway, “You’ll be fine, _il mio angelo_. _Ti voglio molto bene.”_

“Don’t leave me, wait!”

 

Bianca murmurs, “You’ll be okay, _soldatino._ You’ll be okay-” but then she is consumed by the darkness in his vision. All Nico can see is his mother stroking his hand, her eyes shiny but strong.

 

“Stay strong,” she says desperately, “Be strong. And don’t forget that-”

 

But then, she’s gone too. And Nico’s hand feels cold again as all he sees is the darkness.

 

*******

Leo lies in his bed.

 

The house is quiet. So quiet.

 

It’s already 10 in the morning but he can’t bring himself to get out of bed. He’s thankful that he has the week off at the auto shop for Christmas, but he has nothing to do. Why should he get up?

 

Christmas.

 

He used to love Christmas, but this year – well, what’s the point?

 

Leo sits himself on his hands and wraps his knees with his arms. He feels like he’s there but he isn’t there.

 

Out of habit, he wonders where Nico is, before his mind cruelly returns him to the ice. His eyes were closed, with matted, wet black hair. His lips were as blue and not in the pretty way. He was a sick, twisted version of Snow White and Leo wanted to puke.

 

He can still feel bile rise in his throat when he remembers how Nico turned to stone. He can still feel the white-hot pain jabbing his fingers as he pulled Nico from the water.

 

He can still see Nico’s eyes remain shut as Leo pressed on his chest.

 

He can still hear his own frantic cries as he begged every deity to let this kid live.

 

Because Nico di Angelo is just a kid trying to live in a world made for adults.

 

Leo grabs the small parcel on his nightstand – the Christmas present he intended to give Nico as of last week. His fingers run along the merry, red wrapping paper with white snowmen in silly top hats.

 

Leo is all out of tears as he rips the paper off and lets it clatter to the floor beside his bed. Mechanically, he flicks off the lid of the necklace box and pulls a solid, white gold chain from the fluffy, cotton packaging. It glints as it catches the light and swings ever-so-slightly. At the bottom, is the key to Leo’s small place.

 

With a wry laugh, Leo unclasps the necklace and lets the key slowly slither down the links and into the palm of his hand. “Won’t be needing that anymore,” he says to himself, harshly. He drops the necklace back into the box and shoves both the key and rectangular box into his nightstand.

 

No, he’s not okay. But it’s not like anyone’s around to ask him.

*******

No.

 

No. No. No.

 

No. No. No. No. No.

 

No. No.

 

No. No. No.

 

No.

 

_No._

Nico feels like it’s 7:03 on a Monday morning. He can feel his consciousness return to him like he’s being engulfed by a black hole or ripped into a vortex.

 

The sounds come first. First, he hears that loud beep, which is probably some sort of monitor. Then there’s the scuffling of someone’s shoes. There’s the loud hum of some sort of machines and the high squeal of the curtain rings scooting beside each other. He hears voices talking and these ones are not coming from inside his skull. They’re outside and they’re real and he hears his name a couple of times.

 

He feels warm – like bread in the toaster oven. It’s a little too uncomfortably warm and he wants to get out. He wants to go back. But the darkness is solidified. It’s not as pitch black as it was before. He can feel miniscule rays of light reentering his vision as though he’s about to emerge from a short nap.

 

If he doesn’t open his eyes, it isn’t real.

 

He tries his thumb first. He wills it to touch his thigh and _dammit._ He can feel his smooth thumbnail against the paper gown he must be wearing.

 

No.

 

No. No. No.

 

No. No.

 

How the _hell_ did he mess this up? Thousands of unwilling people die every day yet here’s a willing contestant and the universe or the gods or God with a  capital ‘G’ sends him back?

 

It isn’t fair.

 

“Nico di Angelo,” an unfamiliar female voice says and she sounds as though she’s near his face, “My name is Dr. Reyna. We know you’re awake. So please, open your eyes.”

 

He grits his teeth because it’s real. It’s all real.

 

Un-fucking-believable.

 

And then, Nico di Angelo opens his eyes.


	16. To End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up is hard to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!!! or whatever you celebrate right now <3 Love you all xx

When you wake up from unconsciousness, it’s nothing like movies.

 

There’s no Hollywood feeling of it’s-all-going-to-be-okay-now.

 

There’s loud machines and tubes and IVs pumping fluids through your veins to make the transition as smooth as possible but you are still in-between pain and numbness.

 

Slowly, comes the light into your pupils and the world reveals itself to you.

 

Nico feels like he’s on flying upward through the air – as though he’d been lying on a trampoline which someone just bounced on.

 

He sees the dark eyes belonging to a woman clad in a white lab coat. Her smile is gentle as she mumbles something that Nico’s ears don’t quite catch yet. Nico watches as she pats the boy on the shoulder and steps out of the room. Nico can’t really hear what is going on well, but the pitch of the buzzing in his ears deepens. He glances to the other side of the room and eyes a figure in pale blue scrubs, scrawling down information on a chart. It takes Nico a few blinks for his eyes to realize the boy is attractive with his dark hair, tanned skin and eyes like the sea…

 

Wait. The sea reminds him of something.

 

Water.

 

There was water.

 

“Nico?” a voice says clearly, “My name is Percy. Do you know what happened?”

 

It’s the boy with the eyes like sea and Nico can feel himself getting lost and uncomfortably warm, _because of course his nurse or whatever is hot,_ “I- there was water.”

 

The boy chuckles and for a second it reminds Nico of Leo and then he feels like ice, “You’ve been muttering that for the past two minutes straight. Is there anything else?”

 

“Ice,” Nico nods, “I was cold. I was so cold.”

 

And he can feel the sting wash over him. He can feel the burning in his lungs again as he runs out of breath and breathes in water and his body knows that it’s all wrong. He can feel a thousand white-hot needles pricking every inch of skin they can reach.

 

“No, no,” and Nico starts to run out of breath because the whole room is filling with water, “No, I’m supposed to be dead. This isn’t supposed to happen.”

 

The taller boys eyes widen, “NO! Don’t pull those tubes out. Hey, hey, look at me!”

 

“Get me _out_ of here! I was supposed to stay dead; I was supposed to be dead!” Nico’s movements are a little groggy as his cheeks turned heated because he had _one job._

 

He had one job and he couldn’t even do that right.

 

And it’s really hard to breathe in the hospital room and his breaths are getting shorter and shorter and the tremors are shaking his body and the water level is rising higher and higher-

 

“You’re probably in love with your sister,” Percy says, nearing Nico.

 

” _WHAT?_ ”

 

Percy merely nods, “I’ve heard somewhere that attacks like these are induced by weird, Freudian repressed feelings.”

 

“You’re sick,” Nico snarls.

 

“No, I’m not,” Percy smiles genuinely this time, “Panic attacks are caused by massive amounts of adrenaline. So, I needed to get your brain off it- distract you. Here,” he places a hand on Nico’s back, “Deep breaths.”

 

“Somehow I doubt that’s standard medical practice,” Nico mutters, refusing to admit that it worked.

 

Percy shrugs, “It’s probably not. I got it from a TV show.” Nico stares at Percy incredulously as he continues, “How’re you feeling?”

 

Nico coughs but his breathing is back to normal, “Wonderful.”

 

The woman with the lab coat returns with a terse smile on her lips. “Percy, check his vitals. Nico, how are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” Nico moans groggily, “Where’s Leo? I need- I need to tell’im-”

 

“Oh my God,” a voice murmurs. Following the woman in the lab coat is a face so streaked with tears, Nico barely recognizes it. Percy pulls Dr. Reyna aside as the woman hesitantly steps through the doorway.

 

Sure enough, Persephone all but runs toward him, stopping at the edge of the hospital bed. “Nico,” she breathes. She grasps his hand, hesitantly, and Nico winces instinctively, ready to yank his hand away because Persephone’s _not_ his mother and it’s _not_ the same because no one can ever be as warm as his mother. No hand can feel quite the same. She looks at him before reaching for his hand again and this time he just leaves his hand limp. Her grasp isn’t his mother’s but it’s not necessarily uncomfortable so just this once, he’ll allow it.

 

Her eyes begin to shine, then, as she embraces him in a full hug. And not the half-pats that she used to do when Mr. D was around, either. She’s actually hugging him, through the tubes and the nasal cannula, and he can feel the tears collect onto his neck. She doesn’t need to verbalize her apology; Nico can hear it.

 

She pulls away and Nico knows instantly that she’s not the same person and he’s not the same person and they’ve both changed a lifetime with the span of a few days. She brushes some of his hair back, murmuring, “You really scared me. You scared all of us. Hell, even Hades-” and then she stops abruptly.

 

“He came back?” And Nico tries really, really hard to keep the hope and eagerness out of his voice but it doesn’t work. The last time he saw his father, he was still in diapers. But he can still remember that his father smelled like antiseptic and earth.

 

Persephone averts her eyes, “Not quite, Nico. Um, you see-”

 

“He’s not coming back, is he?” Nico’s face falls, “Ever?”

 

And Nico’s voice is so small, that Persephone realizes some truths need to be buried. “I tried calling him,” she places a kiss on his forehead, at which Nico cringes, “but his secretary told me that, uh, a few weeks ago, Hades was on a flight and he didn’t make it.”

 

“He’s dead? My dad’s dead?”

 

Persephone sniffs, “Yes, Nico. I’m so, _so_ sorry. But, um, I know that if I could get a hold of him,” and her throat starts to get thick and it’s hard to speak and breathe at the same time, “I know that, um, if he was still here, he would’ve said that he loves you, very, very much. And he would’ve dropped everything to fly here and see his only son. Because your father loved you. And he would’ve done anything for you because he loved you so much.” She adds after a moment, “And, um, so do I. That, too.”

 

************

Leo spends Christmas on the floor of his grandmother’s hospital room. The same, merry holiday tunes pierce the stale air for the over and over again; Leo already knew the universe is cruel but this is just pathetic. He stabs the paper carton full of soy sauce and sticky rice, shoveling cold Chinese food between his lips.

 

“I’ll be _home_ for Christmas,” he sings along dejectedly, “You can count on me.”

 

When he was a kid, Christmas was great. Santa would come at midnight and eat sugar cookies and leave him toy cars and sometimes a new tool for his toolbox. Now, he wonders if Santa can bring him a way to turn back time. All Leo wants to do is go back to being a six year old kid sitting in the Auto Shop with his mother and not worrying about bills and life and death because Leo’s _really_ tired. And the cheery Christmas songs aren’t helping anything because no matter times he sings with Frank Sinatra, his mother won’t be home for Christmas. And at this rate, no one else will be either.

 

He feels a buzzing in his pocket; when he answers, he hears Hazel’s voice practically sing from the other end, “He’s awake! Leo, Nico’s awake and he’s alright and he’s alive and Persephone called me earlier but we were in church for Christmas but now we’re on our way to the hospital and I was wondering if you wanted me to drop by to pick you up or anything? God, Leo, this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Where are you? Should I come by?”

 

He clears the croak in his throat before answering, “No, I, uh, you don’t need to do that.”

 

“But, Leo- he’s alright! He’s okay! Aren’t you gonna come see him? We have presents for you, too.”

 

Leo can’t see it, but the EEG beside his grandmother’s bed begins to display different waves. Instead Leo sighs into the phone, “The best Christmas I had, I was six years old. My grandmother decorates the house every year but _that_ year was the best. She makes the best _tamales_ and spiced hot chocolate so the house smelled great all the time. And for dinner, she made her special Rose-petal quail because it was my mom’s favorite. And the house was all grandly decorated and everything seems bigger and brighter and cooler when you’re six years old, anyways. My mom got me an old, busted up train set and let me fix it up all by myself. I was so proud of me, then. Trains are metal and bolts and electric wiring and it makes sense and I could fix it.”

 

“Leo, I don’t understand.”

 

“This Christmas, I’m eating cheap Chinese food, hoping that my grandmother opens her eyes again. I haven’t even had time to put up a freaking Christmas tree so I’m sorry if I don’t exactly feel like celebrating right now,” Leo grits his teeth.

 

“Well, what about Nico? Okay, he just woke up after _dying_. He needs us right now. He needs you,” Hazel hisses.

 

“He doesn’t need me,” Leo laughs dryly, “He doesn’t need me. ‘Cause if he needed me, he wouldn’t have tried to leave.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes, “Whatever. A-and what’s the _point_ of visiting him? I am not helping; I’m making him worse!”

 

Hazel scowls, “Leo, stop being stupid. That’s not true and you know it. You love him and he loves you. Now, look, I know that you could lose your job and that it’s risky but you saved him. You _saved_ him, Leo.”

 

Leo wants to throw the phone across the room, as a team of nurses file into the room. One murmurs, “Contact Dr. Brunswick immediately and begin administering the prescribed dosages.”

 

Instead, Leo curls his other hand into a fist, “Stop. Stop it, okay? I can’t fix him. He’s still hurting and I’ll just- I just make everything worse. I’m staying away because I don’t want to know anymore.”

 

“What the _hell_ do you mean by that?”

 

“Sir, we’re gonna need you to exit the room, please,” a nurse grins tightly as she hauls Leo from the room.

 

Leo feels like the last three seconds before an atomic bomb is released, “I don’t want to have to know that if I leave the room to take a piss that maybe he’ll try to off himself again. Or maybe if I say the wrong thing, he’ll do something. I- you weren’t the one who had to pull him out of the ice. Because I can still see him. Not breathing, not moving. _I_ was the one that knew something was wrong when he didn’t call. So _I_ had to drive to his apartment in the middle of my shift and he wasn’t there and _I_ was the one who searched for him. Who went out there in the cold and the snow and he was just – he was just a heap of wet, black clothes in the middle of lake. And _I_ was the one who had to call the ambulance because I couldn’t let him just die. And _I_ had to tell them – I had to say it as I pushed on his chest until the EMTs pulled me off because he was so cold and so white and so dead and, and you don’t understand. Nobody understands and I can’t – I _can’t_ do that again. I can’t.”

 

“You’re right,” Hazel says finally, “I don’t understand,” before the line clicks dead and Leo feels more hollow inside.

 

And this time, he actually does throw his phone, enjoying how the pieces clatter against the tile.

******

 

“Nico,” Hazel breathes, as she and her mother walk into Nico’s room.

 

And Nico knows, _he knows,_ she isn’t trying to make him feel guilty. Because her arms are warm when she hugs him and she won’t stop rubbing his arm to make sure that he’s still there. But she can’t hide the pain, the withholding in her eyes. She’s terrified of him – he knows it, even if she’s not quite aware of her feelings. She’s got a big heart, especially to care for a guy she barely knows. And Nico feels his stomach sinking as she tells him about church and presents because it’s Christmas and his younger half-sister is spending it at his stupid bedside instead where she belongs.

 

“Oh,” Marie says suddenly, “Hazel, did you show him his present?”

 

Nico shakes his head fiercely, “No, no, no. Please, no.”

 

Hazel waves him off, “Nonsense, it was nothing, really. Plus, you’ll probably hate it.” Nevertheless, her smile is huge as she tosses Nico a loosely wrapped box.

 

Nico glances at Persephone who gives him a small nod in return. His fingers slowly tear apart the bright green and gold packaging. “Wow, I- um, I don’t know what to say,” his lips quiver as he pulls out a large, oversized black sweater. It’s embellished with grey reindeer and snowflakes and his initial is in the bottom corner and his stomach sinks even further because _dammit,_ Hazel. She wasn’t supposed to care. She wasn’t supposed to do this for him.

 

“My boyfriend knitted it,” she plays with her fingers, “Maybe you’ll meet him someday in the future.”

 

And there it is.

 

The subtle, but evident warning. That Nico isn’t allowed to _ever_ do this again. That he has to stick around for quite a while longer. That she’s watching more closely now. But it’s still a question – she’s making him promise her.

 

So, he obliges. “Sure,” Nico answers with his eyes on the sweater but the air in the room feels significantly colder. “Hazel,” he tries, as he shuts his eyes, “Where’s Leo?” Because he doesn’t want to see the look on her face when she tells him the inevitable.

 

“Nico, he’s going through stuff right now. I ,um, don’t think it’s a good time,” she offers.

 

He knew it. Nico knew it. Why would Leo stay? Nico was just a freak that tried to kill himself and ran Leo off for good. Perfect.

 

Dr. Reyna steps into the room at that point, her eyes sterner than they were when Nico first awoke. “Nico di Angelo, I need to speak with you alone, please?” Although she inflects her voice to mimic a question, everyone knows it’s an order.

 

Nico watches helplessly as one by one, Persephone, Hazel, and Marie leave the room. Hazel’s eyes look apologetic, but it’s not _her_ fault that Leo’s not here.

 

Dr. Reyna closes the door, a chart in her hand. “Nico, I’m going to ask you a question and I’m going to need for you to answer it completely honestly.”

 

“’Kay,” Nico murmurs, lying his head on the pillow because the room is getting too small again and there is never enough air.

 

“Did you try to commit suicide?”

 

*******

“The good news,” Dr. Brunswick begins, “is that your grandmother has recovered from her stroke. She has established, um, verbal communication and her vitals look great. Physically, your grandmother is fine.”

 

“What’s the bad news?” Leo asks tiredly, as he struggles to keep himself upright outside his _abuelita’s_ hospital room. His body is aching with exhaustion and Leo can’t remember the last time he actually slept.  

 

“Your grandmother is suffering significant memory loss. Think of it as a very progressed form of dementia,” the doctor explains.

 

“How significant? I need to see her!” Leo pushes past the doctor into the room where his grandmother is speaking broken Spanish with the Chilean Physician’s Assistant. It’s not an exact match to his grandmother’s native Mexican-Spanish but it’s the best the hospital can provide.

 

“ _Abuelita,_ ” Leo murmurs as he brushes a piece of her hair back, “ _se siente mejor?_ ”

 

But her eyes don’t light up when she sees him and she twists her head to the side, “ _Cariño, te conozco?_ _Soy demasiado joven para ser tu abuelita!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation for the final lines: 
> 
> Grandmother, Leo murmurs as he brushes a piece of her hair back, “How are you feeling?”
> 
>  
> 
> But her eyes don’t light up when she sees him and she twists her head to the side, “Sweetie, do I know you? I am much too young to be your grandmother!”


	17. Erla's Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo is breaking and no one is around to notice while Nico wishes everyone would leave him alone as they try to mend him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly Triggery Chapter! I put a warning where the triggery stuff is. Just don't read in between there and the first set of asterisks (**************). There's a summary of that part at the end. I don't think the chapter is too triggery but I'd avoid that section just to be safe.

_“Grandmother,”_ Leo pleads in rapid Spanish, “ _Please, please, it’s me! Don’t you remember?”_

 

“ _Get him away from me! Help!”_ she shrieks instead, her eyes terrified of the strange, little boy with crazy eyes.

 

Dr. Brunswick sighs, “Leo, please, this is an urgent situation. Now I need to discuss your grandmother’s options with you-”

Leo scoffs, “Isn’t it obvious? She doesn’t need me, anymore, do ya, _Abuelita_?”

 

“I do agree that a long-term care facility would be the best option for your grandmother. If you get the paperwork started right away, we can have her in the area’s best facility. It’s called River Oak and it’s situated just 20 minutes out of town,” Dr. Brunswick says, “She’ll be happy there. They can take care of her for you. Leo, this is good news.”

“I don’t want her in pain anymore. I can’t help her; I can’t fix her either,” Leo runs his hand through his curls, “Just, uh, tell me where the stupid paperwork is.”

_This isn’t fair._

 

Leo thinks as he signs the forms.

 

_This isn’t fair._

 

In a few hours, she’ll be in some nursing home with a bunch of other people whose families gave up on them.

 

_This isn’t fair._

And it isn’t a fair thought to think – and Leo knows it – but he gave up on being fair quite awhile ago.

 

“So,” Leo mutters gruffly, “There’s, like, _no_ chance, then, right? She won’t remember me?”

 

The nurse at the station scratches his nose, “Um, no, Dr. Brunswick doesn’t think so. It doesn’t look like it. Now, especially since she has requested private treatment, legally, this is out of your hands. Well, her insurance program is sufficient to cover the costs of the long-term treatment facility. Leo, this is a great option for you.”

 

Leo’s glare doesn’t attempt to mask his disgust, “My grandmother doesn’t even know I _exist_. That’s worse than her- that’s worse than death.”

 

“The hospital has a trained team of psychiatrists that I would love to recommend to you, Leo. I highly recommend that you seek-”

 

Leo snorts, “You know, thanks. But I’m good. Can I leave now? I can’t stay here another second.”

 

The nurse sighs, “Yes, sir, you’re free to go. Here’s the information for River Oak Care Facility. I really think she’ll like it there.”

 

Leo tucks the pamphlets into his back pocket with a curt nod.

 

He feels empty, like a zombie, as he makes his way down the elevator. On his way down the parking garage, he can’t recall how many times it stops. Nurses walk in, doctors step out. Children burst through the doors and patients are wheeled out. Voices enter and exit the small vicinity, circling sound in and out of his ears.

 

When he finally reaches the parking garage, he is alone. He walks through the rows of cars, wondering how many will enter the hospital today only to have their lives changed. Some people will die. Some people will live again. Some people will have a leg amputated and others will get stitches on their chest. Each of the cars represents a person, a family, who will change forever because of the actions and words of a few people in white lab coats. Some people will cry. Some people will laugh. But no one will be the same. Even if it’s just for a few hours or for the rest of their lives – people will change.

 

When Leo closes the door of his old, beat-up pickup truck, he sits still for a moment. It’s Christmas evening and he’s sitting in his truck, alone. He pulls out of the parking slot, his mind hazy as he pulls onto the road. Everywhere is closed. Not even the diners are open. Because it’s Christmas evening and everyone is with their family as they _should_ be.

 

As Leo pulls up to a bright, red parking light, there’s no other cars in sight. The train hasn’t come across the track yet, but it will soon. With the windows rolled down, the frigid, winter air soothes his boiling blood.

 

***TRIGGERS AHEAD***

What would happen if he just pulled up a little further? What if he stayed in the intersection until something happened? He inches his truck a little closer, toying with the idea. He’s got absolutely nothing left.

 

Mama’s gone.

 

Dad was never there.

 

 _Abuelita_ is gone.

 

Nico is-

 

Nico is gonna be just fine without him.

 

He’s alone in this world and running out of reasons to stay.

 

But he can’t leave because his mind won’t let him. Leo grits his teeth and grips the wheel tightly because all he wants is to park his truck on the tracks and never look back. “Fuck everything,” he murmurs underneath his breath as he glances up in the rearview mirror. There’s not a car in sight.

 

Leo turns the car’s ignition off, still a few feet from the tracks, and unbuckles his seatbelt. He kicks the door shut behind him and hesitantly places his feet right beside the train tracks.

 

_There’s no going back._

Mama’s gone.

 

Dad was never there.

 

 _Abuelita_ is gone.

 

Nico is gonna be just fine.

 

He can feel the train before he sees it. It’s a chilling in his bones, a furious wind in the air, a sign from the universe. It’s incredibly loud as it gains speed; it’s an unstoppable force of nature in the distance and it’s getting closer and closer and all Leo needs to do is step forward.

 

His heart is boiling alive in his chest. It’s beats are erratic – like the sound of popcorn in the microwave. Leo wonders if he would’ve become an engineer in another life.

 

He half-smiles, “Another life. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

 

And this isn’t poetic at all because this is all too fast and he-

 

All he needs to do is step forward.

 

The train is rounding the corner, bringing the promise of eternal slumber. And Leo lifts a Converse-clad foot.

 

_All I need to do is step forward._

“I’m not scared, I’m not scared,” he murmurs to himself, throwing his arms open and placing his foot on the edge of the train track.

 

_All I need to do is step forward._

“COME ON! HIT ME!” He bellows, “I’M NOT SCARED! COME AND HIT ME!”

 _  
_He can picture his body - bloodied and bruised. He can see the blood pouring from his head. He can almost feel his lungs collapsing, his ribs puncturing his skin and his curly hair matted with blood. He can almost feel the _craaacckkkk_ of his femur and the _twissssssst_ of his spine when the train hits him and for the first time, a small, dark part of him wants it - craves it. 

 

He’s terrified of himself because the dark part has taken over. It has won.

_All I need to do is step forward._

“I’M NOT SCARED!”

 

And then, he is blinded by the train’s bright headlights.

**********

“Nico,” Dr. Reyna repeats, “I asked you if you tried to commit suicide. Do you have an answer for me?”

 

Nico blinks, his resolve reforming once more, “F’course not. I was, um, I was just being a stupid teenager. Playing on thin ice and all that.”

 

“At 3 o’clock in the morning?” Dr. Reyna raises an eyebrow.

 

“I was drunk?” Nico tries.

 

“There was no alcohol in your system,” she says flatly, “Now, there’s a nice police officer two floors down. You can talk to him or you can talk to me.”

 

Nico twiddles his thumbs, “Legally, you can’t really do that, actually.”

 

Dr. Reyna says, “Well, since you’re a minor with a history of depression and probable suicide attempt, I think I can.”

 

“Shit,” Nico murmurs, closing his eyes. “Am I gonna be in trouble?”

 

Dr. Reyna offers a small smile, “We’re gonna help you, Nico.”

 

Nico clenches his teeth together, “Why does everyone think they can _fix_ me? I’m not some _doll_ or some _car_ that you can patch up with some goddamn glue and a screwdriver! You can't fix it, _he_ can’t fix it and I CAN’T FIX IT!”

 

“Fix what, Nico?” Dr. Reyna prods.

 

“No, no, no,” Nico shakes his head, “I’m not doing this. Not here, not now, not ever.”

 

“Then, what do you want, Nico?”

 

“I want you to leave me alone and discharge me.”

 

She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, Nico. But I still have suspicions about whether or not you tried to-”

 

“FINE!” Nico explodes, “I tried to kill myself.” And that is the first time he’s said those words out loud. “I wanted to die. Are you _happy_ now?”

 

Dr. Reyna tries to keep her resolve, but even her eyes look a touch more sparkly. “You’re going to need to stay on Suicide Watch for 24 more hours before discharge. I’ll contact Dr. Apollo, your previous psychiatrist. Percy, get him some food before you leave for the day, please?”

 

Percy complies as Dr. Reyna scribbles information into Nico’s chart. “Nico,” she notes in the doorway, “You’re gonna be okay, alright?”

 

She doesn’t wait for a response before she leaves.

 

Percy hands him a tray of hot soup, cold bread, and a mushy apple. “Merry Christmas,” he smiles earnestly.

 

Nico’s eyes are red as he murmurs, “M’not hungry. Besides, it doesn’t really feel like Christmas.”

 

Percy glances at the window where the sky is gray in the melancholy kind of way. “I know,” he sighs as his eyes go a bit stony. “D’you have any other plans?” Immediately, he cringes as Nico shoots him an incredulous look. “Sorry! Sorry, just habit, I guess.”

 

Nico merely rolls his eyes and stirs the soggy vegetables in his soup, “S’okay. I bet you have some nice, big dinner with your family planned, right? Some beautiful girlfriend who volunteers for an animal shelter in her spare time and parents that are alive and some giant turkey dinner, right?”

 

Percy snorts, “Well, not an animal shelter, but actually a Crisis center. Olympus County Crisis Center.”

 

“ _What?”_ Nico’s blood, molecule by molecule, turns to ice.

 

“Yeah,” Percy stands up to read some information from Nico’s monitor’s, “She’s a volunteer at the Olympus County Center. Actually, she wanted to invite her volunteer friends to our dinner but she couldn’t get in touch with a few people.”

 

It takes every cell, every macromolecule, every atom in Nico’s body not to beg Percy for more details. He bites down on his tongue and resolves to wringing his fingers together.

 

At that moment, Persephone, Hazel, and Marie reenter his hospital room. Persephone’s eyes are as red as Nico’s apple as she takes the seat beside Nico’s bedside. His stomach drops even lower in his abdomen as Hazel leans against the edge of his hospital bed. She should be getting ready for a fancy dinner – not waiting on him. All of these people who are fussing over him when they should be with their families -because it is Christmas evening- make Nico feel like lighting his skin on fire.

 

He wants to tell them that he didn’t want any of this. He didn’t expect this to happen and he didn’t want it to happen and he knows he isn’t being fair to them. He’s sorry. He’s so sorry for all of this because he didn’t mean for it to happen. He didn’t want any of this to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen but it’s all his fault – because everything is his fault – and he really just wants them to be happy.

 

“You start appointments again with Dr. Apollo tomorrow,” Persephone says lowly, “Three times a week.”

 

And so, all Nico says is, “Okay,” and he feels completely, utterly pathetic.

 

*****************

Leo claws at his hind arms, enjoying as the nails dig into his skin, as the train blasts past him.

 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t step forward.

 

The cars of the train flash by Leo’s eyes and his vision is a blur of black and grey.

 

_I couldn’t do it. All I needed to do was step forward and I couldn’t do it._

Leo isn’t sure if he’s proud or ashamed but the force of the train knocks him to the asphalt. His ears feel like they’re bleeding and all he can taste is rock and dirt. He vision blurs and blurs until all he can see, as the lights around him fade, is an angel with round eyes and cinnamon-colored hair hover above him.

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up again, he realizes that he’s moving. “Lady, who the hell are you?” he spits at the angel beside him, driving the car.

 

She smirks, “Oh, you’re awake. I’m about two minutes from my home.”

 

“What the hell-”

 

“Don’t you remember me, Leo Valdez?” she grins, turning to him. She’s dressed in a white pea coat with white stockings and black shoes. Her face is timelessly beautiful and her cinnamon-colored hair frames it lovingly. “Don’t worry, I’m not a psycho serial killer.”

 

Leo rubs the back of his neck because her face is so familiar to him for a reason he can’t pinpoint, “I can’t really remember. Why’re you-”

 

“Are you drunk?” The girl cocks her head as she makes a sharp turn. “I mean, I figure I might as well help this pathetic kid in front of the trains out especially because it’s Christmas.”

 

Leo rubs his eyes, “Are _you_ drunk? What if I’m a psycho-killer?”

 

She shrugs, “That’s a chance I was willing to take, Leo Valdez.”

 

“Hang on,” Leo turns to her, “Can’t you tell me your name? I need to know what to tell the cops.” But Leo recognizes her face for some reason he can’t pinpoint.

 

“You already know that,” she glances at him, “Look, I’m not abducting you alright? I know this seems crazy and weird but I guess I’m kinda cursed.”

 

“Cursed?”

 

She shrugs, “I like to help people. And you looked like you needed help. Think of it as a Christmas miracle, or something.”

 

She makes another turn and enters Ogygia Street. Leo coughs, before she pulls up to the bottom of her driveway. “Wait, where’s my car? Will it get towed?”

 

She shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it. My dad runs the towing service in this town; I called a truck to bring it here. You’ll have it by morning since it’s the holidays.”

 

A feeling of understanding washes of Leo. “Your dad runs Atlas Towing? That means you’re-”

 

“The ghost of Christmas Present,” she laughs as Leo closes the door behind him. “Good things _do_ happen to people, Leo. Don’t look so shocked about it.”

 

“We were in elementary school together,” Leo cocks his head, “You were a few grades above me. Our mothers were friends, weren’t they? Calypso’s your name, right?”

 

The angel beams, “So, are you gonna come inside with me or not, Leo Valdez.”

 

And Leo is impossibly lonely and it’s _Christmas_ and what harm could really come of this? “Sure,” he manages, “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo is feeling guilty, alone, and hopeless as he steps near the train tracks of an oncoming train.


	18. In Jest or Earnest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas dinners with partial strangers may or may not be delightful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I fell asleep -.-

The water in Calypso’s shower hits Leo like a shower of golden rain. There’s piles upon piles of soaps, bars, gels, shampoos, and conditioners. The water is perfectly hot against his freezing skin and he likes the way it turns into steam before his very eyes, clinging to the glass shower. He isn’t sure how long he stands in there, letting the water wash over him and letting the soaps cleanse him, but he hears a knock on the shower door. Calypso’s voice rings out clearly, “Leo Valdez? Are you okay in there?”

“Never better,” Leo calls back.

 

“Well, your clothes are still in the wash but I’ve left some clothes for you on the bed. When you’re done just, uh, come downstairs.”

 

Leo waits to make sure that she’s _completely_ gone before he reluctantly turns the handle downwards. The water slowly decreases in force until a mere few drops fall from the shower head. Leo dries his face with a fluffy, white towel before wrapping it around his waist. There’s a pair of white slippers waiting for him beside the mat so he shuffles to the adjoining guest bedroom. There’s a pair of clean khaki pants and white T-shirt waiting for him and he scrunches his nose for a second because _khakis;_ but ultimately, he’s just grateful that she has clothes around his size. There’s even underwear, still in a store-bought package, to Leo’s delight. The room is significantly colder than the shower, so he quickly slathers on one of the lotions on the nightstand and tugs on the clothes. They’re a bit baggy on his small frame but they do the job. His curly hair is still pretty wet but he just lets the cooled water droplets run down his neck and then his back.

“Had a nice shower?” Calypso says without taking her eyes off of simmering sauce on the stove.

 

Leo leans against the doorframe and for a second he remembers burnt chocolate chip pancakes. “Yeah, uh, good water pressure.”

 

She sprinkles something onto the sauce and Leo’s stomach growls because he can practically taste the feast on his lips. The pasta and steaming vegetables are already on the table and the table is already set so there isn’t much for him to do. “Do, um, do you need help or something?”

 

Calypso shoots him an incredulous look, “No, I’m fine. Once I take the turkey and the ham out of the oven it should all be ready to go.”

 

“Did you know I was coming or something?” Leo makes a face because this is a lot of food and the table is only set for two people. 

 

“No,” she pulls on an oven mitt from the drawer in her kitchen’s island, “I was on my way back from picking up some last minute olive oil. Thank God for big corporations staying open holidays.”

 

“Then you must’ve known I was coming or something,” Leo shrugs, his hands in his pockets.

 

Calypso rolls her eyes, “Conceited.”

 

“Conceited? How?”

 

“You’re right,” she says as she opens the oven door, “Conceited was the wrong word. I should have said vain or narcissistic.”

 

“Um-”

 

“To think this was all for you. Can’t a woman treat herself to a lonely Christmas feast?”

 

“I guess so?” Leo furrows his brow at first because Calypso starts laughing.

 

“You’re cute when you’re confused,” Calypso manages as she lifts the large turkey from the oven.

 

“Are you flirting with me?”

 

Calypso’s face falls immediately. “No,” she says shortly just before she sticks two serving forks into it as she lifts it from the rack, settling it onto the large, white platter. Asparagus is splayed out around edges, creating a nice presentation around the browned turkey. She pours the excess turkey juices from the pan into the skillet the sauce. She mixes them into each other for a moment before pouring some of the sauce onto the turkey and the rest into a small, white bowl.

 

“Sorry, I just thought-”

 

“Move,” she warns crisply as she carries the heavy turkey platter to the large, wooden table. Peeling off her apron, she announces, “Dinner is served.”

 

 

 

Leo’s plate is white with gold trimming and the heavy, silver utensils beside are decorated. Her large house is ornately beautiful and decorated. Her tall, Christmas tree is covered in so much glittering tinsel, pretty glass ornaments, and flickering lights that you can barely see the fake, green needles. Her house smells like earthy thyme, spicy Cajun, and Mediterranean seasoning. The table in front of him is full of sauces, breads, potatoes, lasagna, salad, turkey, carrots, and asparagus. “This is really good,” Leo manages in between bites.

 

“Thank you,” she grins warmly as she sips from her glass. “To answer your question from earlier, I make a lot of food on Christmas but I spend tomorrow delivering most of my leftovers to shelters.”

 

Leo takes a swig from his glass and enjoys the fizziness on his tongue. “What is this?”

 

“Cranberry Champagne Cocktail,” she answers as she chews on a grape tomato. “So, are we gonna talk about it?”

 

“Talk about what?” Leo shovels down a bite of the lasagna. It’s great so it kind of melts in his mouth. He can’t remember the last time he had food that didn’t come from a diner or frozen dinner or Main Moon on Third Street. This is nice and part of this reminds him of Christmases a long time ago.

 

“The reason why you almost stepped in front of a train and killed yourself,” she says, all traces of smiling are gone from her face.

 

Leo slowly lifts his eyes from his colorful plate to meet hers. His fork clatters to the plate and he can barely finish swallowing. “What?”

 

She sighs, “Leo, I’m a lot of things but I’m not stupid. Look, when I found you, you were a mess. Now, I’m a temporary solution but do I need to call someone for you?”

 

Leo snorts, “Who’d you call?”

 

“Your mother passed away a while ago, right?” she says it so casually, yet it isn’t disrespectful. It’s just a fact – like the sun rises in the East and sets in the West.

 

“Yeah. And my dad walked out before I ever knew him and my grandmother doesn’t remember who I am. This was a great chat,” Leo murmurs.

 

“No friends? No girlfriend?”

 

Leo swallows, not bothering to correct her, “Well, what about you, huh? I don’t exactly see Mom and Pop here for Christmas dinner. Where’s your family? Where’re your friends?”

 

“I don’t have any,” Calypso replies.

 

“Well, me neither,” Leo picks up his fork again and spears a piece of turkey into his mouth.

 

Calypso closes her eyes before speaking again, “My last boyfriend left me.”

 

“What?”

 

“My last boyfriend left me. And the guy before that. And the guy before that. Are you getting the picture?”

 

“Why?” Leo’s fork bounces in his hand.

 

She doesn’t meet his eyes; they’re fixed on one the table’s flickering candles. “My family’s always been pretty wealthy and powerful. But when I was little, my grandparents basically disowned my family for some stupid fight they had with my parents. I mean, my father has his business but he doesn’t exactly keep in contact with me. He still owns the company but he runs it from his office in the city. The franchise is growing, but I don’t get a cut from it. But my grandparents felt _bad_ for me so they send me money all the time. Only problem is, their condition is that I have to stay in this stupid, tiny town. I can never leave this town. Ever. And it’s not like people in this town like me either. You heard the rumors.” With this, she looks up sharply.

 

Leo looks down because he does know them. In small towns, everyone knows everything about anyone. He was never one to judge but kids would tell stories on the playground about Calypso’s family. Some would claim her family was involved in the mafia. Others would say Calypso was the product of incest and that she _too_ had a child out of incest. Some would even say that her parents laid low because they were plotting to commit treason against the national government. Finally he says, “Well, my mother was good to you guys. Our moms were friends. So was I!”

 

Calypso spares him a weak smile, “I know, Leo Valdez. I’m repaying that now. But still, even in this town, I feel like I’m alone – like I’m on an island. No one talks to me which makes it really hard to get a job. The only time men even talk to me is when they’re not from here. Foreigners or wanderers will stumble into this town every so often and they never know my past so they never judge me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Leo says earnestly, as he sips from his glass. “I really am.”

 

“It’s alright, Leo Valdez. Anyway, I meet men from time to time so I keep a few extra clothes in closet.” Her voice gets quieter, “You asked me if I was flirting with you earlier and I got cold. Well, I fell in love with a man once. It was a long time ago. He was the kind of man that you _knew_ would break your heart but you let him in anyway. He stayed for a year and I thought he’d stay here forever.” There’s a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. She doesn’t say anything, but she swirls her glass in her hand. Blinking, she brings the glass to her lips, “But he left. And so did the guy after that and the guy after that.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Leo crinkles his forehead.

 

“Because!” she cries and suddenly, her spirit seems as fiery as it did before, “Because all of our lives _suck,_ Leo Valdez! Because my life sucks and so does yours but that doesn’t mean that you stand in front of a train. It means you fight every day of your life. You get up and you fight your way through another day because that’s all you can do, Leo Valdez. There are no heroes and there are no villains in life. We’re all just people and we’re all just fighting and _you_ don’t get to give up.”

 

“I know that,” Leo sighs, mildly annoyed, “That’s why I’m sitting here with you and not splattered on the train tracks. I know that, I was just-”

 

“You were just what?”

 

“I wasn’t thinking, alright? But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let myself. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Leo finishes swallows the last carrot, leaving his plate empty.

 

“Maybe something but…,” Calypso says as she stands up. “Here, help me pack this food away.”

 

Leo starts putting the extra food (and there’s a lot of extra food) into packaged containers as Calypso finds room for them in her refrigerators. Some smooth jazz he hadn’t noticed earlier is playing holiday tunes through the speakers. It’s pleasant. It isn’t a perfect Christmas, but it’s nice.

 

“So, did you get what you asked for this Christmas?” Leo asks as they pack the last box of food away. He winces immediately upon considering the stupidity of his question.

 

Calypso’s smile is mocking, though. “Yeah,” she says, “I wished I wouldn’t spend Christmas alone again.” She ganders at his face and Leo can tell her gaze isn’t romantic, but it’s hopeful. “Um, why don’t you see if there’s anything good on the TV over there and I’ll get some dessert. Do you like apple pie, Leo Valdez?”

 

“Who doesn’t?” Leo tears his eyes away from her and plops onto her leather couch. He fumbles with the remote a bit and settles on some made-for-TV Christmas romantic comedy.

 

She returns moments later, as promised, with two plates of steaming apple pie and whipped cream in her hands. Leo takes a bite out of his as she curls up on the other end of the same, short couch. There’s a bit of space between them but they’re close enough that it isn’t awkward.

 

“So,” she raises both of her eyebrows as she bites into the apple pie.

 

Leo wipes some whipped cream from his lip, “Oh, um, yeah, this pie’s really good!  I mean, I figured you knew already but-”

 

“Not that,” she says sharply before innocently scooping another bite.

 

On the television, the girl is screaming to the guy about something he did. And Leo can see the tears running down her cheeks and she’s obviously in pain, but at least she can _talk_ about whatever is bothering her. And Leo knows that the guy will feel like shit but somehow, _somehow_ he’ll make it up to her by Christmas and then they’ll cuddle and the screen will fade to black because it’s a 120-minute made-for-TV special and since the movie’s over, so is the girl’s story because obviously Hollywood shows you the perfect ending to a perfect relationship even if it’s not real. But even so, Leo kind of wishes he _was_ that girl. He’d rather be her – broken and tearful and blubbering – because at least she’s gonna get her happy ending. Because _dammit_ someone owes him at least four happy endings.

 

“My last boyfriend tried to kill himself,” Leo says calmly, and the room suddenly feels twenty degrees colder.

 

“Oh my God,” Calypso sits back in her chair, “Oh my God.”

 

“It’s all my fault. I work at this crisis hotline and he called me and I met him and I knew he had, like, problems but I got involved anyway and we were together but now we’re not,” Leo glues his eyes to a the pristine, white buttons on Calypso’s pristine, white couch. He tells her everything, from the first phone call to fixing his motorcycle to diners to that night in front of his fireplace to his grandmother (and incidentally his parents) to that night on the ice. She listens attentively, but Leo’s head is still down, “And it’s all my fault. ‘Cause I was stupid and I was selfish and I-” his voice breaks a bit, “I couldn’t save him.”

 

Calypso doesn’t speak right away. The candles on the table are still flickering with their long flames. Some commercial about after-Christmas sales is blasting and Leo kind of wants to laugh at this shitty situation but he doesn’t. Instead, he places his plate on the floor and the silence is growing longer and it’s getting more and more awkward. He is about to say something else when he feels Calypso’s finger beneath his chin. Leo lifts his head up a little, so that his eyes meet hers. Her eyes look compassionated and her lips are turned into a small smile, “Well, you’re right. It _is_ your fault you feel so shitty right now.”

 

“ _What?”_ Okay, so maybe Leo wanted someone to coddle him for a few hours because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when someone almost steps out in front of a train?

 

“Did your boyfriend _ask_ you to save him?”

 

“What are you-”

 

“Did you really think _you_ could save him?”

 

“I-”

 

“Did you really think that you, _you,_ Leo Valdez possessed some sort of magical powers that just erase other people’s problems? As though you and _your love alone_ could cure him?” She doesn’t seem quite angry, rather passionate. Under her breath, she mutters, “These goddamn hero complexes.”

 

“What do you mean? Hero complex?”

 

Calypso takes pity on his genuinely confused expression, “It’s like, okay, you know when you’re sick, right? Like, you’re retching in a can every twenty minutes and your hacking your lungs out and even though the thermometer says you’re at 103, you feel like your bones have turned into icicles? Well, what does your mom or whoever is taking care do? They might make you soup and tuck you in bed with a trashcan beside you. But they also give you medicine from the doctor or gross-tasting syrups.”

 

“What are you saying? I have him the wrong _cough syrup_?”

 

“No,” Calypso brings her legs closer to her and sits on them, “It’s like you’re giving him cough drops and an anti-vomiting bracelet and wonder why he isn’t feeling better. You’re not fixing the problem, you’re suppressing the symptoms and so of course it doesn’t last.”

 

“So was I supposed to just let him drown then?” Leo fumes, “And why the hell did you save me then? You can’t be a hypocrite about this.”

 

Calypso stands up on the couch, and from his angle, she looks terrifyingly powerful, “But I _didn’t_ though! You may have patched away you up, but _you_ stepped away from the tracks before you even knew I was there. You are the one who opened up to me. Sure, it took some persuasion on my part, you are saving yourself, Leo Valdez.”

 

“What about saving him, then?”

 

“You’re mixing up physical saving with emotional. Like I said earlier, you were fixing the symptoms, the side effects of the main problem. You can’t determine your effect on him without talking _both_ into consideration,” Calypso plops down again, “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. As for the real problem, if he’s seriously depressed, you didn’t do a damn thing. And you couldn’t because that’s neither in your job description nor in your power.”

 

“ _Well, I had to fucking try, didn’t I?”_

 

Her hand feels like electricity against his cheek and not in the arousing way.

 

“What the _hell,_ Calypso,” he growls as he clutches his cheek; he can feel the blood and flesh pulsating beneath his fingertips.

 

 “Sorry,” she grumbles, “that was probably not very mature of me. But still, listen to me. We’ve only got ourselves in this world. We come into it alone and we go out of it alone. But if you grow up thinking that you _need_ someone to make you happy or, worse, that you _need_ to fix someone else to make them happy, you’ve got it all wrong, kid.”

 

“So, then, what do I do?” Leo pleads with Calypso’s eyes. She can see the desperation, the hunger, and she sorely hopes that he listens to her advice.

 

Calypso sighs, letting her voice soften, “From what I know of you, you’re a good kid, Leo. But, you can’t blame yourself for _his_ choices. From what you’ve told me, whatever’s going on is bigger than you and it’s bigger than your little guilt complex. It isn’t about you and it never was. I think it’s good that you stayed away from, made a little distance. So, keep doing that. And when you’re ready and he’s ready, you’ll know. Both of you will.”

 

“How’d you know that?” Leo rests his head against the top of the couch.

 

Calypso gives him a half-smile, reaching for the nape of his neck. Her hand is cool as she guides it to her lap. Tenderly, she strokes through his curls, “Because, I’m a people person. Plus, living alone for the majority of your life makes you wise.” Leo mumbles something but she doesn’t quite catch it. But, it doesn’t sound mean, so she doesn’t ask him to repeat it.

 

Her stroking his hair feels kind of good, despite the fact that his brain is working at two hundred miles per hour. Her words and his thoughts are getting mixed up into a large jumble between his ears. On the television, the guy is proposing to the girl and the snow all around them is falling lightly, in thick snowflakes. She’s grinning as she kisses him as the camera zooms pans closer to their faces, as predicted.

 

Leo doesn't even realize he’s falling asleep until his eyes are already shut and all he sees is nothingness.  


	19. You Are the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravens. Lots of ravens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, not really triggery, but be careful! There's a summary at the end, just in case

Rain droplets race down the windows like horses. The sky is murky – it’s color is the embodiment of exhaustion. The sun is hiding, somewhere, behind the thick mass of clouds – he just can’t see it yet. From the tall building, he can see the cars move like they are remote-controlled toys. People mill about like steady, working dung beetles. They hold their briefcases and black umbrellas as they slide into their old cars or bright yellow cabs. He’s seen a young woman with red hair and dark skin dressed in a grey pantsuit. He’s seen an old man with scruffy, black hair and a matching mustache dressed in khakis and a black shirt. But they all blend together beneath his scrutiny. They all look the same as they enter buildings or leave stores or climb up steps or make a phone call. It’s disgusting.

 

The other man in the room coughs and Nico blinks. The walls are painted a very pale green – it’s probably supposed to promote serenity but Nico just feels like he is in a nursery. Framed on the ugly walls are certificates and certifications from various universities and hospitals. There are photographs of his handsome psychiatrist/therapist/whatever-this-guy-is shaking hands and hugging old people and young people and people with purple hair and people with no hair and people with hair on their faces instead of their heads and people with piercings on their faces instead of their head. There’s a large photograph of the man and a women who resembles him somewhat except that her hair is dark instead of blond and she is scowling while the man hugs her from behind. Nico wonders if that’s his wife.

 

“Nico, you haven’t said a word this whole time,” the man urges. He’s sitting on the couch to Nico’s left – it’s probably some weird strategy to trick Nico into trusting him. Nico blinks, unfazed, at the man’s warm eyes, and gazes back at the window. A large, black bird is sitting on a telephone wire.

 

“Nico,” Dr. Apollo repeats, “Your appointment ends in fifteen minutes and you haven’t said anything. This is your space to tell me whatever you want. Tell me whatever comes to mind.”

 

Nico rolls his eyes because the doctor said this before, at the beginning of the session. He looks down at his hands, suddenly feeling guilty. It isn’t that he doesn’t _want_ to say anything – he just can’t. The words are stuck inside his throat. The raven is still perched on the telephone line. Its dark eyes seem to pierce straight into Nico’s, as though the bird is right there in the room with him. The doctor is still babbling about something as Nico leans back further into the couch.

 

When he finally speaks, his voice is all croaky and it sounds wrong, “In traditional Chinese lore, the raven is supposed to be a symbol of the sun.”

 

Dr. Apollo’s face lights up, just like a sun itself, “I didn’t know that, Nico. Where’d you learn that?”

 

Nico squirms, a little uncomfortable. He twists the skull ring on his fingers. It was a Christmas present from Persephone. It was supposed to bring him solace, but instead, it just confused him. She was supposed to hate him; she _hated_ him. And yet, here she was, doting on him and giving him presents. It was all just – off. And where was Leo? Nothing made sense anymore.

 

But the words are stuck in his throat.

 

Nico glances at the clock, watching as the second hand inches closer and closer to the 12.

 

Dr. Apollo sighs, scribbling something on a sheet of yellow notebook paper. Nico feels like an object, like a subject someone is studying for a report for a grade. Because it’s true, if he’s being honest. This doctor needs to make money to live. Isn’t this what it it’s _all_ about? Living?

 

“Nico,” Dr. Apollo tries again, “These sessions won’t do anything for you if you don’t try. I know you want to get better. Don’t you?”

 

“F’course,” Nico manages evenly.

 

“Well,” Dr. Apollo folds his arms, “We have five minutes of the session left. It’s up to you what we do with-”

 

“Who is that?” Nico interrupts, “In that huge photograph of you? The lady?”

 

Dr. Apollo’s eyes follow Nico’s and for a second, he chuckles, “Oh, her? That’s my little sister. We’re twins actually. I know _you_ had a sister, correct?”

 

Nico frowns at the way Dr. Apollo says it, “She’s still my sister. She’s just not here.”

 

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

 

Nico picks at his thumb, “I knew that lady, um, your sister? She knew my sister. She was her professor or mentor or something…”

 

Dr. Apollo nods slowly, “Yes, my sister has a PHD in Women’s Studies and is also a gynecologist at the Hospital. When she’s not doing _that,_ she’s running the town’s Girl Scouts program.”

 

Nico merely nods in reply and his eyes don’t leave the gray, carpeted floor beneath them. In between the couches is a small glass table with a silly centerpiece. The vase is short, stuffed with an odd assortment of flowers. Persephone would have a fit.

 

“Why would Persephone have a fit?” Apollo looks ready to jot something down.

 

Nico’s eyes widen – he hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The raven on the phone line flaps its large wings but it’s talons are secured around the thin wire. Its head is peaked toward the mountains in the distance. He twists his skull ring, “I just meant- your flowers, they, um, she’s really particular about her arrangements.”

 

The words are stuck in his throat.

 

Dr. Apollo nods and glances at the clock, “Nico, I hope when we meet again, we can talk some more.”

 

 Nico shakes the doctor’s hand as he is guided to the door. Persephone is sitting in the clinic’s waiting room, scrolling through her iPhone. She was always a fan of Apple products. “Miss Persephone,” Dr. Apollo opens his arms, “You look lovely as ever.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor,” she grins as Nico resists the urge to throw up.

 

“A word, please? I just need to speak with you for a moment. My office?”

 

Worry creases her forehead as she glances at Nico without realizing it. “Um, Hazel’s in the restroom, dear. She insisted on coming. I’ll just wait for her to get back and then-”

 

Nico stops paying attention because his heart sinks a little lower. They don’t trust him to be alone. Not even in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. There are large windows everywhere – he could jump. There are pens on the receptionist’s desk – he could stab his carotid artery. Everywhere is a hazard because _he_ is the hazard. He sits down on one of the comfortable, dark blue seats and rests his head in his hands.

 

“Hey there,” a chipper voice greets him. He feels a hand on his back and a finger beneath his chin. Hazel brings his head up and her bright smile is rather infectious, “How’d it go?”

 

Nico can never be mean to Hazel, not after all she’s done for him. And then he feels worse because this entire appointment was supposed to start making him better and instead, he feels just as lost as ever. Hazel is relying on him to get better – to be better. “Pretty good,” he lies.

 

Hazel affectionately rubs his knee, “Where’s Sef?”

 

And it’s not that Nico feels _jealous_ that Hazel is using the nickname he created to antagonize his stepmother but, okay, maybe he sort of is a little uncomfortable.

 

He should really learn how to communicate with his therapist better.

 

“Talking to Dr. Apollo about me,” Nico mutters.

 

Hazel yawns as she stretches her arms, “Probably stupid stuff like medication.” She winces immediately, “Wait, no, I didn’t mean stupid, like-”

 

“It’s fine,” Nico laughs, a little dryly, as his eyes glance out the window. The raven is there. He’s on a completely different side of the clinic, looking out a different window, and the raven is perched on the phone wire. “What do you know about ravens, Hazel?”

 

She frowns, “Bad omens. Prophecy. Symbols of death. Why?”

 

The raven, as though sensing it was being talked about, beats its large, black wings and leaps from the phone wire. Its wings beat faster as the bird flies into the murky, grey sky. “Nothing,” Nico shakes his head, “Forget it.”

 

******

Nico finishes the last of his strawberry ice cream on the way to Persephone’s townhome. His apartment is now property of the bank, but luckily, he got to keep some of his belongings. They’re all sitting in brown boxes, shoved hastily into the corner of the guest room. They have already dropped Hazel home after grabbing ice cream cones – it had been her idea. After Nico stomached two pills from Persephone (because he’s not allowed to take the pills from the bottle by himself), Hazel had decided that they needed ice cream.

 

“So,” Persephone begins pulling containers from the refrigerator when they get inside, “I chatted with Dr. Apollo today. He told me some things. Also, do you want turkey or ham leftovers?” They had a late, makeshift Christmas dinner when Nico returned home from the hospital the previous evening. He can still sort of feel the needles poking into his forearms and the hospital bracelet is still on his wrist. Persephone asked to cut them off, but for some reason, Nico insisted on keeping them on – it was a reminder.

 

“I know,” Nico says, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator, “And I’m not all that hungry.”

 

“Yes you are, and you need to eat,” Persephone sighs, “You’re my – you’re family.”

 

He knows those words are supposed to make him feel better, but it’s all just unsettling. Ever since he woke up from the hospital, everything that is up is down and everything that is down is sideways and nothing is making sense. And why won’t Leo just see him?

 

“Nico? _Nico,”_ Persephone drops the white Pyrex of ham on the counter and dashes beside the refrigerator. “Breathe, honey, breathe.”

 

Nico’s stomach feels like it is a rabid animal clawing its way up his esophagus. His eyes are searching for the light but the darkness is invading his vision. He can vaguely feel Persephone’s hands on his back and can hear her panicked voice but he concentrates on the light bulbs dangling in the light fixtures that go out, one-by-one like little suns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up again, there’s something cold and wet on his forehead. Nico grabs its plastic edge and tosses the cold compress onto the foot of his bed. Bluish light streams in from the tiny window and Nico knows he must have been out for a few hours. He’s dressed in nothing but his black boxers and he blushes, imagining Persephone pulling him out of his clothes.

 

Gross.

 

And yet, at the same time, part of him is touched. Perhaps, he’d misjudged her after all. Changes of heart aren’t necessarily impossible – even for his previously vile stepmother.

 

Nico opens the drawer, where he’d started to unpack some of his clothes. He pulls on some plaid pajama bottoms and a white shirt before padding back into the kitchen.

 

Persephone is whispering on the phone to someone, her back to the doorway, when Nico pads back in. “No, no, _no,_ you cannot just waltz back in here like,” there’s a pause, “ _I told you and you said that you-_ oh, so this is _my fault?_ God, I needed you. He needed you. And you just,” there’s another pause, “Well, I already told him that- well, what _else_ was I supposed to do? Huh? He’s been through so much. Stuff that _you_ don’t even care about and,” she grits her teeth as she pauses again, “Don’t you dare. I swear to God if you walk through that door-”

 

Nico’s face heats up and his chest feels heavy again, “Um, hi.”

 

Persephone jumps and her face is pale when she faces him. Immediately, she hangs up the phone. “Nico!” She steps toward him hesitantly, “How’re you feeling?”

 

“Who was that?” although Nico is pretty sure he already knows.

 

Persephone’s face is paler, “Don’t worry about that. Look, I called Dr. Apollo because I was worried and he said that attacks like that are common for someone with your condition and the medications that you’re on-”

 

“Who were you just talking to?” Nico’s voice is eerily calm and quiet. But his eyes are red and brimming and his fingertips are shaking.

 

Persephone’s voice falters, “Honey. Honey, it’s no one. L-look, I’ll make you some tea and we can-”

 

“Don’t lie to me,” Nico takes a step backward. “Please, just don’t.”

 

Persephone’s eyes look frenzied as the dart from the floor to the wall to the door to the countertop, “Nico, I wanted to-”

 

“Please tell me it’s not who I think it is,” Nico’s voice is trembling, “Because you _told_ me he was dead. You _said_ it and you told me that. He was dead or else he woulda been here, right? You _told_ me that!”

 

“They didn’t need him on the case anymore,” her voice is hardly audible. Nico can just scarcely hear her over the sound of his breaths, “So he wants to come home.”

 

“You told me- you _lied_ to me,” Nico’s voice is hysterical. He turns away from her, dashing into the living room. Everything is a blur and he’s not sure if that’s because of his head or his medicine or his tears or what. He grabs his coat, as he hears her clamber behind him.

 

“Nico, honey, please,” she begs, “It’s freezing out there, God, _Nico_ you are not leaving this house.” She grabs onto his wrist, “Nico, honey, stay, okay? Just stay! Look, I just got you back and-”

 

“Let _go_ of me,” Nico screeches. His pent-up anger gives him the adrenaline to shake her hand away. Clad only in thin socks, he leaps out of the doorway into the cold, snowy evening. He surrenders his anger, his frustration, his guilt, his shame into the wintry air. He’s just running.

 

Running away from everything.

 

He doesn’t know where he is running until he gets there. He’s standing at the doorway of Leo’s house. Furiously, he wipes the tears away from his eyes before he bangs on the door. He doesn’t care if Leo doesn’t want to see him. He doesn’t care if Leo is too scared to buck up and talk to him. He just needs to see him. He just needs to talk to him. He needs someone to help him forget.

 

But he bangs on the door until his fists turn raw – Leo doesn’t answer. Nico isn’t sure how long he stands there, but his skin is starting to dry from the cold and his teeth are beginning to chatter and he can no longer feel any of his toes. He nearly slides down the hill from Leo’s porch as he slumps across the street, back onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, he sees large headlights. Nico ducks behind a streetlight as an unfamiliar makes its way up Leo’s driveway.

 

A fond smile settles on Nico’s face when he sees him. His dark curls are longer than ever and his eyes are gleaming. There’s a familiar grin on his face as he steps out of the car and shoves his hands in his pockets. He reminds Nico of the first time he saw him, asleep in the hallway of his apartment building. Unsure of himself, but brilliant nonetheless.

 

The smile on Nico’s face falls when he sees _her_. A beautiful angel steps out of the driver’s seat. Her hair is long and gorgeous; it’s a pretty cinnamon brown against her stark-white coat. Even from afar, her face is timelessly beautiful.

 

Nico doesn’t need a mirror to tell him that he doesn’t compare. Not with his purplish bags beneath his eyes and really faint freckles and sickly looking skin.

 

Plus, this girl is _normal_.

 

Part of him wants Leo to see him, to notice him hiding in the shadows. Even _worse,_ a tiny part of him wishes he had a panic attack right here, right now. Because then, Leo’d have to save him, right? He’d have some reason to talk to him and be with him.

 

Nico hates himself for even allowing the thought to develop in his brain because he knows –he knows- how messed up he sounds.

 

He buries that small part to the deepest recesses of his brain, praying that it never resurfaces. He pulls his hood over his head as he shuffles back to Persephone’s townhome. Suddenly, all the anger and frustration and emotion coursing through his veins are gone.

 

Like a light bulb that’s blown, a bird as it flaps its wings into the sky, or the fleeting rays of sunlight as the day turns to night.

**********

Two days later, he’s still seething.

 

There’s no raven on the telephone line the next time he is in Dr. Apollo’s office. The sky is just as ugly, though, and the stupid people in their stupid business suits are still milling about like mindless insects.

 

“Nico,” Dr. Apollo frowns, “I asked you why you ran away on Friday night. Your stepmother called me _twice_ that evening. There was an entire search party until you returned home. Tell me, do you _enjoy_ the attention?”

 

Nico’s head is pounding. He can feel the rage building up inside him. He can feel the red and the black blur his vision of the room. He hates himself. He hates Leo. He hates Persephone. He hates his mother. He hates Hazel. He hates his father. He hates Dr. Apollo. He hates everything. There is not _one_ redeeming thing on this earth. He’s a balloon – ready to pop. He’s a bomb – ready to diffuse. He’s a kettle of water with fire beneath, it ready to boil and screech like a banshee. He just needs one, little trigger.

 

“Nico,” Dr. Apollo pushes, “I asked you a question.” There it is.

 

“She lied to me,” Nico grit his teeth, “She told me he was dead.”

 

“Who?”

 

Nico clenches his firsts because he is tired. He is so tired of fighting and he is tired of being angry and he is just so tired of everything that he doesn’t care who is in the room anymore, “My father! H-he just _left_ me and my mom and Bianca and I was so little and he just _left_ us! And if he was dead, that would be a different thing because, h-he’s _dead,_ you know?” Nico’s lips are trembling, “B-but he’s not. He’s living and he’s breathing and he’s okay and I’m not and he’s supposed to care, they’re all supposed to care, they’re not supposed to just leave me!”

 

“Who’s left you, Nico?”

 

Nico’s voice is thick and he doesn’t fight the blurriness in his eyes, “Everyone!” His heart is racing and his stomach is attacking him again and he feels way too warm, so he clutches the arm of the couch, “M-my dad and my m-mother and my sis-sister and Leo’s gone for good a-and she _lied_ to me and that’s- it’s – that’s not okay! A-and then what does it say ‘bout m-me, huh? I must be the problem, h-here. I-I’m always the problem.”

 

“Nico-”

 

But he’s gasping for breath and he feels like he’s solving the world’s greatest puzzle, “It’s _all_ my fault, it’s me, i-it’s me! A-and you t-think I want atten- _hic-_ attention? I-I-”

 

“What is it, Nico?”

 

“I- I want to non-exist. I’m n-not supposed to _be_ here!” he whispers, “A-and I’m j-just sorry be-because no one can save me anymore. You couldn’t, - _hic­_ \- he couldn’t-”

 

“Who couldn’t?”

“L-leo c-couldn’t,” Nico manages, as his eyes dart from the ugly walls to the ugly floors to the ugly flowers to raven. Because it’s sitting on the telephone wire, its beak screeching to the clouds, “H-he was all I h-had left.” Nico rubs his fingers together, “A-and he doesn’t w-want me.”

 

Dr. Apollo’s eyes are fiercer than Nico has ever seen them, “So, you _save yourself._ ”

 

Nico doesn’t respond but the tears are still streaming from his face and his nose is still running and his heart feels like he just ran a marathon. “I DON’T WANT TO!”

 

“Why not, Nico?”

 

He growls, “I don’t _deserve_ it. I told you, w-what does that say about me that everyone I care about _leaves me_?”

 

Dr. Apollo stares directly into Nico’s eyes, “I can’t save you, Nico. Leo couldn’t save you. No one, _nothing,_ can save you unless you save yourself. We can give you medicine which’ll help the chemical stuff in your brain, Nico. But you,” and he pokes him in the chest, “You save yourself. You decide when _you_ wake up in the morning how _you_ will face the world. It’s not up to me or your step-mother or your father or Leo or anyone but _yourself._ And you listen to me. You deserve life.”

 

“Stop,” Nico covers his ears with his hands, because this _isn’t_ real. He doesn’t understand and it doesn’t make sense. “Stop lying.”

 

“I’m not lying to you, Nico,” Dr. Apollo continues, “You deserve to live and you deserve to be happy. That’s not something you have to _earn_ Nico. That’s something we all deserve. It’s a right we all acquire at birth. You deserve life and you deserve love.”

 

“N-no,” Nico curls his legs onto the sofa, “No, I don’t. _I DON’T!”_

“You don’t need to feel guilty for living,” Dr. Apollo goes on, “And you don’t need to hate yourself for what you did, either.”

 

“STOP!” Nico closes his eyes as he screeches. He hugs his knees and he wants his brain to take him anywhere but here. “I DON’T WANNA FEEL THIS, GO AWAY!”

 

“What do you _feel,_ Nico? What’s going on inside that head? Tell me, Nico! You have to face it. You have to say it out loud.”

 

“I don’t- I’m just – They can’t keep leaving me, okay? It’s not fair? My dad _left_ us, okay? Maybe if I was smarter or faster or stronger or- _normal-_ maybe he would have stayed and then m-my mother died a-and it just wasn’t _fair_ to take her from us and then Bianca had to take care of m-me and my stupid condition a-and they said they’re not mad at me b-but _I am_ and then she died and that’s my fault too b-because she was l-looking for _me_ ‘cause she knew and I- I we didn’t have money and it-it’s not fair that we didn’t have enough money and I-I know I’ve got a lot of problems b-but L-leo made me forge and then he m-made me happy for a lit-little but, but I’m not _allowed_ to, I’m not allowed to be happy ‘cause my condition and they won’t go away. None of it _goes away_ and I’m j-just always angry and I’m always just- there’s so much of _this_ inside, inside of me and it doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.”

 

Dr. Apollo looks at him long and hard for a moment before he says, “You told me the other day about the raven and I looked it up. You’re right. The raven does symbolize the sun in some cultures. Chinese lore says the three-legged raven symbolizes the three phases of the sun – the rising, the noon, and the setting. And _you,_ Nico di Angelo, are the raven. You are the sun. You are the sun of your own life. The sun has the power to create and sustain life just as it takes it away. And your sun, right now, is buried beneath all of the clouds, all of the murkiness that blocks your light. And the clouds are there, just as they are outside right now. But in the winter, we know and we don’t give up hope that our sun is still there. And it’s hard. But without cloudy days like this, we don’t appreciate the sunny ones.”

 

He touches Nico’s chest with a finger, “You are the soaring Raven, the rising Sun, but _you_ need to know that. You need to believe that. That your clouds do _not_ define you. You define _yourself,_ Nico di Angelo. Your father does not define who you are and you need to believe that. Your mother’s death has nothing to do with you and neither does your sister’s death.”

 

“But if I wasn’t so careless-”

 

“Your sister loved you,” Dr. Apollo cuts in, “if you died and she hadn’t, she would have _never_ forgiven herself. And if you had both lived, something _else_ might have gotten her, Nico. You did not kill your sister. You need to believe that.”

 

Nico swallows, “I- I don’t know. I just- I don’t know.”

 

Dr. Apollo tears a new sheet of yellow, lined paper. Then he tears out a few more sheets and places them in a pile in front of Nico. Then, he sets his pen on top, “You need to write. Write them each a letter.”

 

“W-what?”

 

“A letter,” Dr. Apollo repeats, “One to your father. One to your mother. One to your sister. One to your Leo. One to your step-mother. One to as many people as you need. Then, we’ll seal them.”

 

Nico’s lip is still trembling but his tears aren’t fresh. “N-now?” He feels kind of drained and he desperately needs a nap.

 

“Yes,” Dr. Apollo smiles grimly, “You need to write this out now. Let your emotions out. Let yourself feel them. And then, with each word, let them go. What would you _say_ to them, given the chance?”

 

Nico swallows, “W-will you help me?”

 

“Of course,” Dr. Apollo nods gracefully.

 

Nico glances out the window and on the telephone wire, sits the majestic, black raven, his chest proudly puffed against the murky sky. Its wings are spread out beside its body.

 

Nico’s palms begin to ache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico is meeting with Dr. Apollo. The appointment goes horribly because Nico barely says anything. There is a raven throughout the chapter. When he gets home, he has a panic attack because his relationship with Persephone is weirdly nice and he doesn't understand it. When he wakes up, he overhears Persephone talking to Hades and runs away from the house to Leo's house. He wants to be distracted by him for awhile until he sees Calypso dropping Leo off. Not quite understanding, Nico slumps off, burying thoughts that he wants Leo's attention because they sicken him. His next appointment with Dr. Apollo occurs and Nico breaks down, revealing the guilt, shame, anger, and bitterness he feels regarding his father's abandonment, his family's death, his failed suicide attempts and Leo's betrayal. Dr. Apollo attempts to reinvigorate Nico's spirit and calls him the Sun and the Raven. He then tells Nico to write letters to all the people in his life that he feels heavy emotion toward.


	20. Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close your eyes and count to seven. Then, let it all go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for you patience! I promise I haven’t forgotten about it and it’s not on hiatus!!!  
> I didn’t post two weeks ago bc it was my birthday and I didn’t have time. Plus, writing tvott makes me go into a dark place which I didn’t want to be. So I planned to make an extra long update last week. But, my laptop was broken and was being repaired. Plus, I was three hours away from my house for a dance showcase.  
> Hopefully, tomorrow, I will post the part 2 to this update (bc I hate being a shitty writer and not fulfilling deadlines) so you guys are getting two chapters this weekend (:

Leo feels like he’s living in a bubble.  He finally understands the difference between living and being alive. He feels like he’s constantly in the state of reality and fantasy. He feels like the drowsy state one feels when they first wake up.

 

His life returns to how it was all those months ago. His schedule doesn’t really vary.

 

Wake up. Auto Shop.Sleep. Food. Sleep. Auto Shop. Food.

 

Sometimes he visits his _Tita –_ except it’s a thousand times more painful _._ ‘Cause when he goes in, her eyes are kind of glassy and thinks he’s just an overly concerned nurse.

 

People around him are talking but the words don’t mean anything.

 

Leo glances at the clock on his wall – it’s almost 2 in the morning. Ordinarily, he’d be getting ready for his shift, but he doesn’t work at the Crisis Center anymore. He vaguely remembers the crimson in Mr. Chiron’s face as he yelled at him. He vaguely remembers the accusations, the words they said to him, “lawsuit”, “confidentiality”, and “contract” were a few of them. He remembers the aghast look on Jason’s face and the disheartened look on Piper’s (because she totally warned him about this) when Leo packed his things into a small box. He remembers the feel of his small, silver key as he unhooked it from the ring and placed into Chiron’s sweaty palm. He remembers how the glass door closed shut behind him, but he doesn’t remember looking back. He remembers all these things like a distant memory he isn’t very sure or concerned about. In fact, if the pink slip wasn’t sitting on his dresser, he wouldn’t have remembered that he was fired at all.

*******

Nico’s hands are shaking as he seals the last letter. He brings the envelope to his lips, his tongue running over the dried glue. _The taste is a touch sweet_ , he notes before pressing his fingers over the folded flap. He’s sitting cross-legged on Dr. Apollo’s couch but he isn’t facing the window so he can’t see if the raven is there.

 

“So,” Dr. Apollo prompts, “What are you going to do with them?”

 

Nico holds the stack of six letters carefully. There is one for his father, with angry lettering on the front. There is one for his mother, with crinkly, dried tears staining the envelope. There is an envelope addressed to Bianca, which took him four days to write. There is a letter written to Leo, which took him three drafts to perfect. It was a thick envelope because ultimately, he decided to seal all three drafts into the envelope. There is an envelope for Persephone which is considerably thin since he was never _truly_ angry with her.

 

And lastly, there’s a letter addressed to Nico di Angelo.

 

What he would have told himself a few weeks ago. A few months ago. A few years ago. What he had needed to hear then and would probably still need to hear in the future. What he’ll read if his hands start shaking again and he can’t breathe anymore.

 

All six letters, sealed in their envelopes rest in Nico’s hands. “I don’t-,” he says finally, “I’m not quite sure.”

 

“You could do whatever you’d like with them, Nico,” Dr. Apollo clasps his fingers. “These are _your_ letters. Send them, burn them, eat them- okay, wait, don’t eat them.” Nico lets out a soft laugh which Dr. Apollo takes note of, “All I ask is that whatever you end up doing with them, you tell me in our next session, okay?”

 

Nico nods slowly, his eyes still glued on the stack in his hands.

 

“Well, that marks the hour, sir,” Dr. Apollo begins to stand up, flexing his hands, “And don’t forget-”

 

“I know, I know,” Nico half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “Call you if there’s anything and keep track of myself in the journal.”

 

Dr. Apollo smiles genuinely, and his teeth light up the room, “It’s been almost a week, Nico. I’m pleased with your progress.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Nico shrugs but doesn’t say much more.

 

As they walk toward the waiting room, Dr. Apollo prods, “So, you have any plans for tonight? New Year’s Eve?”

 

Nico scratches the back of his neck, “Not really. Probably watch the television with Sef. Maybe Hazel or something.” He still shuffles the letters in his hands.

 

“Nico,” Dr. Apollo rests a hand on his shoulder, “The new year is a time for change. For new beginnings. Genesis.”

 

Nico merely blinks as he tucks his letters into his back pocket, “Yes, doctor.” He chews the words over in his head as he pushes through the door into the waiting room. Without fail, Persephone is sitting on one of the chairs as she lazily flips the pages of _Gardening Today_.

 

“Hey, how’d it go?” she looks up at him, still a little nervous over that stunt he pulled a few days ago.

 

“I’ll see you next week,” Dr. Apollo waves as he walks back into his session room.

 

Nico shrugs, “It was, yeah, it was good, I guess.” He fumbles with the zippers on his jacket because even though he _knows_ he’s supposed to be talking about himself more, it still feels really awkward.

 

Persephone slings her floral bag over her shoulder, “Ready to go then?”

 

Nico nods as he follows her out of the office. He snorts, “Why’s your bag floral? We’re in the middle of winter.”

 

Persephone snaps, “I’m sorry, when’s the appropriate time to wear florals, sir?” but her tone isn’t harsh.

 

“I dunno, like spring?” Nico presses the button on the elevator.

 

“Florals? For Spring?” Persephone raises an eyebrow, “Groundbreaking.”

 

“That’s from Devil Wears Prada,” Nico rolls his eyes.

 

Persephone waits for Nico to step into the elevator before she does. There are two women in business suits and a middle-aged man with a baseball cap and green jacket already standing there.

 

“And how would you know that?” she quips.

 

“Because Bianca made me watch it with her like twenty times a day,” Nico says, with his eyes purposely averted. He clutches onto the bottom of his jacket because he’s scared of the look that could be on Persephone’s face.

 

Instead, Persephone smiles gracefully, “Good, as she _should_ have. That movie is a classic.”

 

“Oh, whatever,” Nico rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his own expression. As the elevator descends to the parking lot, the man in the baseball cap is muttering to himself about ‘stupid Employee Confidentiality paperwork”.  Nico nearly smiles at the irony.

 

The elevator doors open, so Nico and Persephone make their way toward her car. His hands are shaking a little as he pulls his seatbelt over his chest. Persephone is talking about their plans for lunch and then dinner and then the New Year but Nico isn’t paying that much attention. Instead, he unfolds one of the stacked letters from his pocket, tracing his thumb over the crease.

 

“Nico?” Persephone tries to keep the concern out of her voice.

 

“Hm?” he shifts the envelope back under his thigh out of habit.

 

Persephone’s eyes glance from the road to Nico in an instant, “D’you hear me? I asked where you wanted to go for lunch. I mean, we could go to McDonalds? Or Vince’s Pizzeria? Or there’s this new Thai restaurant down the-”

 

“Sure, yeah, let’s go there,” Nico nods earnestly.

 

Persephone basically cheers as she shifts into the turning lane.

 

When they get there, Nico is still clutching the envelope. It’s early enough that the small-town doctors and business execs aren’t on lunch break. But then again, everyone in town goes to Vince’s so maybe it doesn’t matter that much. They’re seated rather quickly and Persephone overlooks her menu. Nico’s eyes skim his but he’s also drinking in the olive green walls, the chestnut chairs, and the unoriginal décor around the restaurant. But still, the ambiance in the nearly empty restaurant is nice; Dr. Apollo might have a point – different was good.

 

Their waitress returns with Persephone’s iced tea and Nico’s water with her pen ready. She has long, curly blonde hair (which seems out of place but it’s a small town) and her grey eyes are sort of intense. Nevertheless, she smiles, “So, have you guys decided?”

 

Persephone nods toward Nico and he coughs, “Um, we’ll have the spring rolls to start and then for lunch, I’d like the Pad Thai, please.”

 

“Chicken or shrimp, sir?”

 

“Shrimp, please,” he hands her his menu.

 

“I’ll have the yellow curry chicken please,” Persephone folds up her menu and hands it to the waitress.

 

As the girl walks away, Persephone notes softly, “It’s nice here.”

 

Nico’s leg is jiggling because he’s still holding the envelope. Before he realizes what he’s saying, his mouth opens, “I have something to give you.”

 

Persephone cocks her head to side, “What is it?”

 

Nico breathes and glances upward. His eyes catch hers by mistake but her gaze is soft. Nico purses his lips and places the envelope on the table. It’s a little crinkly from his pocket but it looks fine. Holding his breath, Nico slides the envelope around their glasses and beside Persephone’s salad fork. “I need,” Nico begins, his breaths a little ragged from being held, “I need you to read it.”

 

“Now?” Persephone’s eyes look concerned.

 

Nico nods once (although, he realizes if he had any sense, he would have waited until he could hide while she read it).

 

Persephone’s finger slips beneath the flap of the envelope. Nico watches with baited breath as she unfolds it the letter. Her face is unreadable as she scans it with her eyes from left to right. Left to right. Left to right. Left to right. And Nico wonders how long it takes someone to read a goddamn letter anyway. Finally, he pushes his body away from the table, he mumbles, “I need to go-”

 

“No,” Persephone grabs his wrist, “You don’t. Sit down, Nico.”

 

Nico wrings his fingers together as he sits down on the chair again, “So, um, yeah. That’s it. That’s what I need you to know.”

 

Persephone’s eyes are brimming with tears as she half-smiles at him, “I was horrible to you.”

 

“I didn’t like you much either.”

 

She rubs her thumb along his bony wrist, “We’re not gonna fail you again, okay? If this is what you want then, I promise, it’ll happen, okay?”

 

Nico looks doubtful as his gaze remains on the ice floating in his water.

 

“I’m glad you told me, er, wrote me this,” Persephone continues, “I just- Things are gonna be different this time.”

 

Nico picks at his nail, “I’m glad I told you too.”

 

Persephone can sense his discomfort, so she swirls the straw in her drink, “So, do you like sparkling grape cider or sparkling apple cider?”

 

Nico makes a face, “Uh, champagne.”

 

“Nice try, kid,” Persephone snorts, “Now, apple or grape?”

 

*******

Leo’s hands clumsily attach the black clip to its metal counterpart beneath the hood of the Nissan Quest.

 

“You ready? Charlie calls from the other car, the door open on the Toyota Corolla.

 

Leo steps away from the hood, nodding, “Yeah. Do it,” as he opens the door of the Quest and turns the key.

 

Charlie turns his own key in the ignition and the Corolla lights up. Leo glances down at the Quest’s ignition slot, reassuring that the key is still turned, too. There are a few trinkets dangling overhead and a stale air freshener.

 

“It’s not working!” Leo cries, five minutes later, because the dashboard hasn’t lit up and the car has no juice, “Shut it off!” He twists the key to the Quest to turn it off and hops out of the car.

 

Charlie turns off the Corolla, rubbing his arms as the cold form the open garage door seeps through his jumpsuit. “Huh,” he scratches the back of his head, “That’s weird. Check the cables again.”

 

Leo adjusts the angle of the red clip on a bolt within the engine and Charlie checks the positive and negative battery attachments.

 

Charlie gives Leo thumbs-up after he restarts the Corolla. Leo waits a few seconds before twisting the key of the Quest. And at first, nothing happens again. Leo groans, resting his head on the steering wheel.

 

Then, the lights flicker on. The radio softly starts blaring a song by Coldplay and Leo can feel cold air begin to stream from somewhere around his feet. He lifts his head and motions a thumbs-up to Charlie who promptly turns off the Corolla. Leo leaps out of the Quest, letting the car run for a few minutes.

 

“Second time’s a charm, eh?” Charlie dusts his hands on his new, navy blue jumpsuit – a Christmas present from his fiancée, Silena.

 

Leo rolls up the sleeves of his own, ratty jumpsuit, “Guess so.”

 

“Soda?” Charlie offers as he rummages through the garage’s minifridge. It’s beside his workstation because _he’s_ technically the boss.

 

“C’mon,” Leo leans against the Corolla, “No beer?”

 

Charlie lets out a booming laugh as he tosses Leo a Diet Coke. The young Latino grumbles as he flicks the tab open and the can hisses.

 

“Happy New Year,” Charlie murmurs as he clinks the neck of his beer with Leo’s soda can.

 

They are quiet for a bit as they sip from their drinks. Leo notes, “I always liked boosters.”

 

“Really? Why?”

 

Leo shrugs as he glances at the Nissan Quest. The hairs on his forearm stand up as the frigid outside air from the open garage door continues to flow through, but Leo doesn’t mind. “Well, they’re easy, for one. And for two, it’s kinda cute.”

 

“Cute? You lost me there.”

 

“Like, one car is helping the other one out? Like, until it can work right on its own,” Leo gulps down more of his Diet Coke.

 

Charlie just furrows his brow, “You’re crazy, man. Brilliant, but crazy.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes, “Shut up, Charlie.”

 

“I’m serious, man,” Charlie laughs, “Should I be considered that you think automobiles are _cute,_ let alone _help each other out?_ ”

 

“Fuck you, I’m checking the Quest,” Leo murmurs, the tips of his pointy ears flaming. He yanks the door open and the car’s interior is warm and lit. He turns the key and the blinking digital clock fades from “12:00” to nothing.

 

******

“What if we had a party?” Hazel murmurs to Frank as she flips through her Sports Illustrated magazine. “Frank?”

 

“Huh?” Frank answers, but his eyes are concentrated on the crochet needles in front of him.

 

“Did you hear what I said?” she leans over the edge of the couch and wraps her arms around his chest, “We should have a New Year’s Party!”

 

“Gah! Crocheting is so much harder than knitting. I hate it!” Frank tosses down his heaps of yarn and needles.

 

“Fraaaaaaank,” Hazel faux-whines, “And hey, that was a well thought out present!”

 

“Yes it was,” Frank tilts his head so he faces her, “And I heard you – New Year’s Party. But why?”

 

“It’s been a shit year for everyone,” Hazel replies lightly, “And I’ll ask Persephone if we could do it at her house ‘cause it’s bigger and you can invite your friends from the team and I’ll invite from people from work.”

 

“We’d need to get champagne.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Which requires a fake ID.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“And we’d need stupid party hats.”

 

“Yes, we would.”

 

“And sparkling cider for ickle babies like you,” he smirks.

 

“Done. Let’s do it!” Hazel cries.

 

Frank kicks aside his crochet set as he stands up, “Well, it’s not like we’re doing anything else. Let’s go, Princess.”

 

Hazel leaps onto his back from her position on the couch, “Away, my steed!”

******

Nico wishes it were snowing, or at least raining, so this would be more poetic. But, he knows that life isn’t fiction and fiction is much more dramatic than real life.

 

He can feel his stomach sinking lower and lower as Persephone drives the dreaded route. He’d only been to this place twice before and he can barely remember the first occasion.

 

Persephone glances at him as she turns the steering wheel slightly, “You alright, there?”

 

Nico feels faint as he murmurs, “Yes,” and stares at the window. His lungs feel as though they are getting smaller by the second.

 

And the breaths start to come rapidly. And his palms begin to feel sticky and wet. His lips feel jagged and chapped and his tongue longs to lap in the depths of a large lake, as it possesses an insatiable thirst.

 

Persephone’s voice sounds like it is received through a far-away tunnel or as though he is underwater and she is shouting from the shore.

 

He’s drowning.

 

He can’t breathe and he’s drowning.

 

He can’t breathe and he’s drowning.

 

Black spots dance in his vision, like a deathly disco ball. He isn’t sure where up is.

 

He can’t breathe and he’s drowning.

 

He can’t hear what Persephone is saying, but her tone sounds shrill; he can feel her hand on his cheek.

 

“Breathe. You can breathe,’ he hears a voice as clear as HD 700 Senheisher headphones in his head. “Take a breath in,” it instructs. The voice itself is a touch garbled – a mix of his own and someone else’s. Someone who speaks a bit quickly and has the hint of Spanish twang when he speaks.

 

Nico’s sweaty palms clutch the seatbelt for support as Nico forces himself to follow the 7-11 rule. 7 seconds to breathe in and 11 seconds to breathe out.

 

1…2…

He sees Dr. Apollo’s encouraging face.

 

3…4…

He sees Persephone ruffling his hair.

 

5…6…

He feels Hazel ignoring his protests and hugging his midsection anyway.

 

7…

He sees Leo’s lips curve into a naughty smile. He can practically read the words off of Leo’s lips.

 

_‘Let it go.’_

So, Nico does.

 

He opens his mouth and lets the breath go, lets it _all_ go.

 

11…10…

Leo’s face is flushed and his hair is matted beneath Nico

 

9…8…

Hazel is sitting beside him in his hospital bed, laughing at the bad soap opera on the television,

 

7…6…

Bianca is retying his tie before he walks into the first day of middle school.

 

5…4…

He’s at the picnic in his head and his mother is laughing.

 

3…2…

Leo’s absent-mindedly humming something as he screws something on Nico’s motorcycle.

 

1…

He sees himself, in ten years, with an FBI Badge in his suit and his Armani shoes resting on the large, wooden desk in his large office.

 

 

 

Persephone’s voice comes back to him like he’s waking up from a dream that he can’t quite remember.

 

“…me to call him? Or, we can turn around now if you want instead, okay? I’m calling him. Where’s Dr. Apollo’s number?”

 

“Sef,” Nico opens his eyes, “I’m fine. I’m good.”

 

“What?”

 

Nico smiles because it’s true. He glances down at his hands which aren’t shaking anymore. His laugh is a bit incredulous, “I’m good.”

 

“You’re good?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

Persephone’s grin is wide as she unbuckles her seatbelt. Nico hadn’t even noticed that she pulled over, “You’re good?”

 

“I’m good,” Nico laughs, “I’m good, I’m good, I’m good. I’m- I’m just- I’m good!”

 

Persephone reaches her arms out to hug him and Nico instinctively shrinks away. Persephone’s face falls for a fraction of a second, “Right, sorry.”

 

“Not that good, I guess,” Nico murmurs sheepishly.

 

Persephone rolls her eyes easily, “Kid, don’t worry about it. You’re okay. That’s all that matters. Really,” as she buckles her seatbelt again.

 

Nico’s smile is a bit faded but he’s still pretty proud of himself. “I-I can do this. I can.”

 

“I know,” Persephone changes the gear of the car into drive as she presses on the gas. It’s only a few more minutes before Persephone pulls into the place.

 

Nico unbuckles his seat belt and hesitantly steps out of the car. The snow on the ground is somewhat melted, so there are lots of patches full of dead, brown grass. His high from his own happiness fades with every step he takes. He sees stones and names. Names and stones. He doesn’t remember exactly where he is going but his body seems to have a better idea than his mind. The wind stings his eyes and his nose begins to run a little bit. He shoves his hands into his pockets as he treads beside the rows and rows of gravestones.

 

He can _feel_ them, almost. He can feel where the two most important gravestones are as though they are pulling him through some celestial force.

 

His blood runs cold when he sees them.

 

They’re just

 

Sitting there.

 

His mother and his sister.

 

Their gravestones are just beside each other in rows. His mother’s is significantly larger because they had more money to spend on an appropriate gravestone.

 

Suddenly, he wishes he had flowers or something to place beside them.

 

Their gravestones look so naked and empty. Grass grows around them and he tries not to think about the fact their bones, or whatever remains of his family, are literally in the ground a few feet below.

 

He wonders if they’d already be dust.

 

Nothing would remain of their pretty eyes or long, beautiful hair or smooth skin or dresses or red fingernails.

 

They’re gone.

 

Nico just stands there looking at them for a moment. He’s vaguely aware of a family of birds screeching above him.

 

He blinks at the gravestones. He closes his eyes before taking a breath. His hands pull out two envelopes.

 

He kneels down onto the muddy ground and pull out Bianca’s letter first.

 

He opens his mouth, prepared to read, but no sound comes out. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nico pulls out his lighter from his back pocket. He’d nicked it ages ago – it was the last thing his mother had from his father. It’s gold and embossed and Nico isn’t really sure how to use it. He fumbles with the metal grinder, eventually pressing hard enough that a flame actually appears. With a yelp, he drops the lighter onto the ground.

 

Taking a deep breath, Nico reaches down and picks up the lighter with his left hand and Bianca’s letter in the other. Kneeling beside her gravestone, Nico presses down on the metal grinders again and a flame erupts in his hand. He touches the corner of his letter to the flame and watches as the bright orange flames eat his scrawled, black handwritten lettering on the crudely stapled sheets of white paper. His words are malformed and distorted as the paper turns into little, black pieces of dust. He drops the remaining corner of the burning paper onto her gravestone, in the pile of ashes. The flames consume everything and die when there’s nothing left to burn.

 

It’s done.

 

It’s gone.

 

And yet, a piece of his soul feels relieved as the smoke carrying his words floats higher and higher in the sky and maybe to a place with golden gates that he isn’t sure he really believes in but at that moment he has to.

 

He doesn’t know if there is a God or a Heaven or a Hell; but he swears, he can feel a part of him cleansed – as though his words did reach her.

 

They have to.

 

Nico’s trembling hands pick up his mother’s envelope, tearing out her multitude of stapled papers. His finger runs along the side of the letter as he shuffles closer to his mother’s grave.

 

And he watches as those words turn to smoke and ash as well.

 

It’s like an offering, he thinks, as the fire swallows up the words he wrote to his mother on those pieces of paper. He sees the ‘M’ in ‘Mother’ turn into black nothingness.

 

And that too, is done.

 

It’s gone.

 

Both letters, both women, are gone from his life.

 

Their smoke floats throughout the universe and his pains go right along with it.

 

He’s free.

 

He’s a raven soaring above the lofty skies.

 

He earnestly isn’t sure if the tears on his face are from the wind or his emotions.

 

“So, um,” he croaks, “that’s all I have to say. Um, I’m gonna miss you so much. Um, but I’ll, um, I’ll see you two again. I- it’s gonna be really hard but I think I know that, um, that I’m gonna be okay. And I know that you loved me. And I loved you too, Mom. And Bianca. And I still love you. Um, I just – this isn’t easy,” Nico stands up, “But I’m gonna visit more. ‘Cause, because I’m not – I’m not scared anymore. I can’t be. A-and you’re gonna watch me grow up. A-and when I see you again, we’ll have a hell of a lot more to talk about. A-and I’m not mad anymore. I just – I guess life is just like that. I think.”

 

The two gravestones with burning ashes merely sit in response.

 

Nico’s voice is trembling as he takes a step backward, “Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Bianca.”

 

When he turns around, his breath is given back to him. Persephone is leaning against the hood of the car, sporting her sunglasses when he finally makes it back to her.

 

“I did it,” Nico whispers, when he finally reaches her. “Look.”

 

The remains of the black smoke keep disintegrating into the air. Persephone looks at him and Nico is thankful she doesn’t say anything. Hesitantly, he lets himself grab her forearm. He can feel her confused gaze for a moment, but he keeps looking at where the gray sky meets gray smoke. Wordlessly, Persephone puts an arm around his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but allows himself to relax. The two stay like that, watching the skies long after the smoke clears, leaned against the hood of the car. The ravens overhead screech one last time before setting off into the sky, toward the hidden, golden orb.

 

_to be continued..._


	21. Slowly, Comes the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elderly Homes and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I was supposed to post this Sunday.....Part Deux

There is an abrupt knock on Leo’s door.

 

Leo scowls, as he finishes tugging on his jeans and ironically, un-ironic T-shirt. He pads down the hall, barefoot, before clasping his hand around the doorknob. He takes a deep breath, before peering through the eyehole.

 

And his heart stops for half a beat.

 

He frowns as he opens the door, “What are you doing here?”

 

Piper’s grin is huge, “I’m going out with my shitty best friend. I don’t see you anymore.”

 

“I got _fired,_ if you didn’t remember,” Leo groans, “And I don’t feel like going out.”

 

“Great,” Piper claps her hands together as she pushes past him, “So, we’ll stay in. Want any pizza?”

 

“Piper-”

 

“Cheese or Pepperoni? I want Veggie,” Piper goes on, “So, I’m thinking half-cheese, half-veggie? Or half-pepperoni-half veggie?”

 

“Piper-”

 

“Ah, fuck it. I’ll get two pizzas – one half-pepperoni, half-cheese and the other one veggie. Or maybe one full cheese and-”

 

“PIPER!”

 

“What?” Piper stops dialing from the phone, “I’m about to make the call.”

 

Leo leans his head back against the door frame, “I had plans today.”

 

“I thought you said _I don’t feel like going out_ ,” Piper mocks his voice horribly. “Come on, Leo.”

 

“Piper, no,” Leo ruffles his hair, “Today just isn’t – it’s not a good day, okay?”

 

“It’s New Year’s Eve, Leonardo Valdez,” Piper crosses her arms.

 

“My name isn’t Leonardo,” Leo says flatly, “And I- I miss you, too, okay? Really.”

 

“Good,” Piper smiles genuinely, “So, let’s hang out. For real, man. You’re – you’re my friend. My best friend. And you went off the rails and I was a shitty best friend and the New Year is starting and I’m making amends and we _are_ hanging out today and you _will_ talk to me.”

 

“I was on my way out,” Leo scratches the back of his neck and watches as Piper’s face falls, “Come with me if you want but I don’t think it’s your idea of a good time.”

 

“Try me,” Piper grins as she tucks her phone into her pocket, “Let’s get rolling.”

 

Leo smirks, “Now I remember why I don’t hang with you – you say shit like that.”

 

“Shove off, stupid,” Piper follows him out of the door, grabbing his car keys for him on the way out. “You forgot your damn car keys.”

 

Leo pats his back pockets immediately, “Oh, uh, thanks.”

 

“Dumbass,” Piper mutters as she follows him off the porch into his pick-up truck.

 

“Well, I’m still taller than you, ya know,” Leo smirks as he waits for Piper to close her door. He turns over his shoulder, before backing out of the driveway.

 

 “Wow,” Piper snorts, “Very mature. No really. I’m proud.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes as they roll down the street in his truck. Piper fiddles with the radio for a few moments. The car is filled with peaceful silence.

 

Piper fiddles with the flaps on her blue hunting cap, “So, how are you doing? Really?”

 

“Well, there’s my grandmother first of all-”

 

“What’s wrong with her? Didn’t she wake up?” Piper frowns.

 

“-and I was seeing this guy, but, uh, he tried to kill himself.”

 

Piper feels like her lungs have been stolen from her, “What?”

 

Wow.

 

Saying it out loud makes it feel

 

So

 

Tangible.

 

That was a _thing._ That was a _thing that happened._

 

His (he doesn’t want to call Nico an ex-lover because that sounds so finite) most recent person-he-was-involved-with tried to off himself.

 

“Are you serious?” Piper repeats, “Jesus Christ, Leo.”

 

Leo shrugs as he makes a sharp right, “It’s fine.”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

“I know,” Leo looks down at the steering wheel, “I know. But I’ve been keeping my distance, so I know it will be.”

 

“Leo, I-”

 

“Piper, I don’t want to talk about this right now,” his voice is steelier than he thought it could be.

 

“But-”

 

Leo cuts in, “We’re here. We’re at the place.”

 

The sign for Olympus General Residential Care Facility is a bit faded, desperately in need of a new paint job. There are only two other cars parked in the Visitor’s Parking area and the asphalt is cracked and rough. Leo slides into a parking space near the door and twists the key. Piper is quiet as they both hop out of the truck – Leo helps her down from the step even though she insists that she doesn’t need his help.

 

Together, they walk up the large, cement ramp through the sliding glass doors. “Hi, Shannon,” Leo greets as he signs his name in the Visitor’s Sign-In Sheet. Piper scribbles down her name beneath him, greeting Shannon as well.

 

Shannon’s wide brown eyes are sympathetic as she gives Leo a pity smile. “Good luck, Leo. Yesterday, she told Carmen that remembers being in love with a ‘Mister Samuel’.”

 

“Do you know where she is?”

 

Shannon flips the schedule packet on her desk for a moment before responding, “Ah, yes, she should be in the living room today. Free time.”

 

“Perfect,” Leo wheels around, ready to head out when Shannon coughs.

 

“Um, Leo? Who’s the girl? You know policy,” she frowns.

 

Leo grabs Piper’s wrist as he starts walking more briskly toward the living room, “She’s my sister, it’s fine!”

 

“Sister?”

 

“Well,” Leo explains as he dodges behind a nurse with purple hair, “It was either that or you could be my wife.”

 

Piper sputters, “What the- your _wife?_ ”

 

Leo murmurs, “They like to keep this place super family-oriented and family-only. So, welcome to the family, my blushing bride.”

 

Piper makes retching noises and flicks Leo’s hand off of hers, “Gross. Are you even eighteen yet?”

 

Leo rolls his eyes and laughs. But, then, he stops so abruptly that Piper nearly runs into his back. Gone is the ghost of laughter from his face. Instead, his eyes look just as melancholy as they did earlier. “There.” Leo mutters, “There she is.”

 

“The one with the earrings?”

 

Leo laughs (and he isn’t sure why), “Yeah.”

 

Piper shoves his lightly, “Well, come on, brother. Introduce me to thy grandmother.”

 

“It’s not that easy,” Leo shakes his head.

 

Piper snakes an arm through his, offering an encouraging smile. Leo swallows as he leads them toward the woman with the large, gold earrings and cropped black hair. She’s wearing a stupid, blue gown, and Leo grits his teeth because his grandmother wears red or yellow – never blue. Her eyes are a bit glazed as she works on some needlework. She never used to do needlework. In fact, she is the one who taught his mother all that she knew about cars and mechanics.

 

But it’s not like she _remembers_ any of that.

 

“ _Hola_ ,” Leo greets as he sits across from her wheelchair. “ _How are you?”_

 

 _“Good, today! Thank you, Doctor,”_ his grandmother replies in slow, drawling Spanish.

 

“What’s she saying?” Piper whispers as she sits on the armrest of Leo’s chair.

 

 _“I am not your doctor,”_ Leo manages as he reaches out to hold one of her wrinkly hands.

 

Carmen, his grandmother’s nurse, chides sharply, “Leo, do not agitate her. If she does not remember you right now, you must not pressure her. Maybe you should go.”

 

“I just got here,” Leo sighs, “Carmen, I’m not just leaving. I have stories to read her and things to tell her and-” Turning to his grandmother, he goes on, “ _It’s me, Leo. Your grandson. Leo. This is my friend, Piper, remember?”_

The desperation in Leo’s eyes makes his grandmother retreat back into her wheelchair. She mutters to her nurse, “ _This makes no sense. I am tired now. I’d like some rest.”_

Leo’s face falls, “ _Abuelita, wait!”_ Reaching into his deep jacket pocket, he pulls out a small, familiar book. Ripping it open, he begins reading frantically, _“Hace mucho tiempo había una reina tan Hermosa-”_

“Mr. Valdez-” Carmen hisses. __  
  


_“Valdez?”_ his grandmother replies, dazed.

 

“She used to read me these all the time, okay?” Leo snaps, “She’s gotta remember.”

 

“ _Valdez,”_ she says again, her eyes widening in shock. “ _Valdez,”_ she reaches a hand out to Leo’s bony face, cupping his chin with her wrinkly fingers. She grins, “ _Valdez_.”

                                                                                             

Leo’s hand overlaps hers and he glances at Piper. Her face is a cross between empathy and fascination. “ _Do you know who I am?”_

 

“ _Why, of course! You are Samuel Valdez.”_

Leo lets his hand drop and his eyes become tight, “ _Of course I am._ ” Standing up, his eyes don’t leave the floor, “ _I just remembered. I, uh, I have another appointment_ _and I have to go now._ ”

 

His grandmother blinks. Then she blinks again, “ _I’m sorry. Who are you?”_

 

Leo takes a breath before he faces Carmen, “Um, I’m gonna, I’ll go take care of the billing. Insurance policies and stuff.”

 

“Leo, wait,” Piper calls out to him after she scrambles from her seat. She pauses momentarily, kissing his grandmother on the cheek, before running after him.

 

She nearly trips over two wheelchairs and nearly avoids running into an elderly man’s tray of Cream of Wheat, but she manages to find her way outside. She sees Leo just sitting on the edge of the ramp. She expects him to be angry or bawling or upset.

 

But

 

He’s just sitting there.

 

“You took care of the billing awfully fast,” Piper replies.

 

“Forgot I did it last week. You ready to go?” Leo stands up but he won’t quite meet Piper’s eyes. He’s looking her squarely in the nose.

 

“That depends,” Piper folds her arms, “Are you gonna explain what the hell just happened?”

 

“My grandmother doesn’t remember me,” Leo’s voice is flat as he heads down the ramp, “What more is there to say?”

 

“You’re not alright,” Piper notes as she follows him into the car, “Shit. _Shit._ Leo, talk to me.”

 

“I’m not coming back here anymore,” Leo mutters rapidly, mostly to himself, “I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m, I am _not_ coming back here anymore.”

 

“She still needs you,” Piper replies, “It’s just – it’s a feeling I get. Deep down, she’s still your grandmother and you’re angry right now and you’re not thinking straight.”

 

“I was the one who had to file her fingernails and comb her hair and read her stories and talk to her when every day, every _fucking_ day, I wondered if she was ever, _ever_ going to w-wake up again. And I’m probably a shit person for thinking this but I’d rather she coulda just gone peacefully. But now, she doesn’t even know who she is and what’s the _point_ of that?” Leo rants as he tries to see anything through his hazy eyes.

 

“I get it,” Piper nods, “It isn’t fair to you. To her. To anyone.”

 

Leo’s hands are gripped tight on the steering wheel as they clamber into the car. “My life’s gone to shit. But,” he shrugs, “I’m just, I’m just _done_ with crying about it.”

 

“Leo-”

 

“I can’t, Piper,” he finally looks in her pretty, multicolored eyes, “I- People aren’t the same thing as a car with a dead battery. I – I mean, you can’t just twist a few screws and use a few cables to make them work right again. Someone told me that I try to fix people too much, when they don’t ask, so I’m done. I have _nothing_ left to give.” 

 

Leo sits back, the words engaging his exhaustion. He bites his lip and manages to look at Piper’s expression. She blinks a few times before she clears her throat. “People aren’t machines. But people need help too, okay? Y-you can’t just give up on her. Or that guy you were talking about before-”

 

“-this isn’t about him-”

 

“You sure about that?” Piper snaps. She takes another breath, “Look, there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely and nobody likes the latter.” Under her breath, she mutters an expletive, “Look, you’re right. You can’t fix anyone in this shitty world. But you can sit with them and hold them until they fix themselves. And maybe if they never do, at least you’re fucking there for them, alright? Helping isn’t the same thing as fixing. You gotta let people know that even if you can’t put them back together, you’ll help them pick up the pieces or fetch them the glue while they do it themselves, you know? That was a shitty analogy, but-”

 

“No,” Leo shakes his head and his hands slide off the wheel. They’re still in the parking lot and Leo never actually started the car, but something goes off in his head like a flickering flame. And the car doesn’t seem so cold anymore. “That was good.”

 

Piper smiles, “Now, let’s go get massively drunk. A friend from work invited me to a party tonight and I’m bringing you along, so we need to pregame.”

 

“Piper, it’s not even four yet and I haven’t eaten anything but Cheerios all day,” Leo sniffs.

 

“Well then get our asses to the nearest cheap, corporate chain restaurant that doesn’t respect global holidays and let’s go!”

*******

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Persephone asks Nico as she pours him a glass of orange juice.

 

Nico nods, “New year. Changes. All of that. Really, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

 

Hazel pecks him on the cheek, “Perfect! And you couldn’t really say no anyway because I invited people anyway but I’m still grateful for the gesture! Now, I’ve got some things in my car, I’ll be right back!”

 

Persephone laughs and pours a little vodka into her orange juice. “Nico, say the word and we’ll send everyone home. I mean it. Today was emotionally taxing. I’d offer you a drink but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

 

Nico lets out a snort, “I think a party could be fun. New people, new faces, and all that. Plus, my life has been way too dramatic this year. I could use a party.”

 

Hazel bounds back into the kitchen, “Okay, so, this is my Frank. I told you that you’d get to meet him, Nico.”

 

“Thanks for the sweater,” Nico says blithely before sipping from his virgin orange juice.

 

“Anytime, man,” Frank leans onto the counter, “So, it’s all cool, right? The party and everything?”

 

“Yes, I promise,” Nico replies, setting his glass down.

 

“Great,” Persephone says, “You guys want help? I can make some pretty mean pigs-in-a-blanket. Oh, and I have great meatballs!”

 

“Well, right now, I could use some help with unloading things from the car,” Frank shrugs.

 

Hazel nods, “Yeah, and I’ll go over the guest list and menu and stuff.”

 

Nico finishes the remainder of his orange juice, wincing at the stray bits of pulp while Persephone follows Frank out of the door.

 

“So,” Hazel begins, “I invited a couple of people from work to this, uh, party.”

 

“Sounds fun,” Nico opens the door to the refrigerator to pour himself more orange juice.

 

“I didn’t, um, I didn’t invite Leo,” Hazel admits, “I know there was some weirdness and I didn’t think you wanted him to come.”

 

“Oh,” Nico nearly drops the glass pitcher in his hands, “Okay, then.”

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Nothing,” Nico grabs an extra glass from the cupboard, “I just – I guess I thought I should be more upset? But maybe I’m just getting used to the fact that he’s done with me.”

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t say _done_ with you per se-”

 

Nico nearly chokes, “Yeah, right. He doesn’t care like I thought he did, I guess. He’s moved on. I guess I’ll have to, too.”

 

Hazel frowns, “Of course he _cares_ -”

 

“Oh, really?” Nico’s tone sounds bored, “Then where was he this _whole_ time I was in the hospital and after the hospital, huh? He never even called me once or sent a freaking Merry Christmas Card.” Nico released his tight grip on his orange juice glass, “Look, what I did was a bad thing. I know that now. But, I still can’t help but be bothered by the fact that I almost died and he didn’t even come by to make sure I was still breathing. It’s just – it’s a bit fucked.”

 

“He pulled you out,” Hazel admits.

 

Nico drops the glass but it is close enough to the counter that only its contents spill. “ _What?_ ”

 

“One box down, two to go!” Persephone calls from the parlor.

 

“Also,” Frank begins, his voice echoing in the house, “Since you’re legally allowed to purchase alcohol, we might need to make a stop.”

 

Hazel continues, her eyes closed, “Yeah, he pulled out of the ice. He found you and called the cops and resuscitated you and was there in the trauma room. H-he cares, Nico. He’s just scared.”

 

“He saved my life,” Nico steps back until his back hits the wall, “He saved me.”

 

“He’s probably just keeping his distance because, well, he’s scared of a lot of things. And he has some of his own issues to take care of too,” Hazel continues as she begrudgingly starts to mop up Nico’s dripping orange juice.

 

“I n-need to see him,” Nico stammers as his hummingbird heartbeat returns, “I need to tell him.”

 

“Tell him what?” Hazel crosses her arms.

*******

“RUN!” Piper giggles as she sprints faster than Leo from the mall security guard.

 

Leo laughs, “The _fuck_ did you steal this time?”

 

Piper glances behind her, waving the Dior sunglasses, “I didn’t _steal_ ,” she leaps between an elderly couple, “I just talked the salesclerk into giving them to me. Now run faster!”

 

When they both duck behind the benches in Daylight Park, Leo is giggling as he’s panting, “Brilliant. The _sunglasses_ are a beautiful touch.”

 

“Why thank you,” Piper laughs as she ties a new scarf around her neck, “Maybe my father will notice this time.”

 

Leo shakes his head, “Damn, I just- I missed hanging out with you and making bad life decisions, Piper.”

 

“That’s what being a teenager is all about,” Piper smiles as she pulls off her sunglasses and shoves them into her bag, “And we can hang out anytime. Now go buy me a burger.”

 

“I thought you were a vegetarian.”

 

Piper stands up, “I am. Veggie burger at Whole Foods Restaurant.”

 

“Gross. You made me go there before and I almost puked from those veggie chips,” Leo pushes himself up. “Plus, we just had three bowls of popcorn at the movies.”

 

“Fine,” Piper scowls, “But seeing three movies consecutively makes a girl hungry for more than buttery carbs. Ice cream?”

 

“Well, in this weather, there won’t be a line,” Leo agrees, “But we should probably start paying for shit before I rack up bad karma.”

 

“Done,” Piper adjusts her cap, “I got a credit card.”

 

“ _A_ credit card? Not _your_ credit card?”

 

Piper flashes him a smile, “Of course not, silly. I’m just borrowing.”

 

Leo rolls his eyes, “Okay, so what’s this party we’re going to again?”

 

“I thought you weren’t _running away_ anymore? Why don’t you go talk to your boy instead of partying?” Piper cocks her head as they head toward the local ice cream shop.

 

“There’s a difference between running away and having fun, Piper?” Leo shoves her playfully.

 

She lightly slaps him upside the back of his head, “Don’t use that tone with me. And you’re at least talking to your boy soon, alright?”

 

“Yeah, I will,” Leo nods, “I kinda want to.”

 

“Perfect,” Piper slings an arm around his neck, “Now, what are you wearing? You’re changing out of that unironic shirt.”

 

“It’s funny!”

 

“No. It’s not,” Piper chuckles, “Now, hurry up. They’re probably closing early for New Year’s and if I don’t get my cookies and cream, then we may have some problems.”

*****

Nico’s on his fourth glass of bubbly sparkling cider. The music is blasting and loud in the living room. People are laughing and talking and singing and gyrating and shoveling down meatballs.

 

“Not your scene?” a familiar-looking, tall boy with dark, shaggy hair responds.

 

Nico cocks his head, “Nurse from the hospital, right?”

 

Percy swigs the rest of champagne with a grin on his face, “Nice to see you standing, Nico. How’ve you been?”

 

Nico smiles, not-quite-blushing, but a small smile is on his face, “Pretty, uh, weird, to be honest. And you?”

 

“Good,” Percy sits down on the chair near the bar, “I’m here with my girlfriend. She works with Hazel. Your, uh, half-sister, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Nico nods, “And this is my step-mom’s place.”

 

“Persephone. She used to have a flower shop on East Street. Small world, right?”

 

“Yep,” Nico slurps from his cider as the music changes.

 

A boy with blond hair rushes into the kitchen, “Percy, have you seen Piper? She just texted me saying that she’s here, but I haven’t-”

 

“Hey there,” Piper saunters into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Jason’s midsection, “This party rocks.”

 

Percy introduces, “Nico, this is Piper and Jason. They work with Hazel and Annabeth, too.”

 

Nico waves as Piper says, “Oh, and Leo’s here too, somewhere. I lost him, though, near the coatroom.”

 

Nico feels the blood leave his face, “Whoa, wait, _what_? Leo as in Leo Valdez?”

 

Piper knits her eyebrows, “Yeah, but I can’t find him. Got lost in the dance crowd, I think.”

 

“Wait, wasn’t he your-” turning to Nico, Percy begins, “Oh, shit.”

 

Before Nico can react, he hears a voice. “Jesus, Piper! Thank God you got that new headscarf ‘cause I could see it from across the-”

 

They both kind of blink for a second.

 

“-room.”

 

Leo is wearing khakis with an open, purple button down shirt over a white V-neck. His hair is noticeably longer, a bit curlier, and his eyes are nearly as wide as his open mouth.

 

Nico is wearing black skinny jeans with a black Polo and he keeps blinking, as though the image in front of him will disappear.

 

“Hi,” he manages.

 

“Hi,” Leo squeaks.

 

“Hi,” he says again because he isn’t sure what else to say.

 

“Well, this is awkward. Jason, pour me a drink, _sil-vous-plait,_ ” Piper commands as she leans onto the counter. 


	22. Clair de Lune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward exchanges and a party where everyone goes home early

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! I appreciate it!

Hazel shuffles toward the counter in the kitchen, “Hey, Nico, I want to you to meet-” but freezes in her tracks when she sees the Western standoff. “Leo, what the hell are you doing here?”

 

“Gee, thanks for the invitation, Hazel,” Leo murmurs, but his eyes don’t leave Nico’s. He’s drinking him in. He’s changed a lot since the last time he’s seen him. His hair is cut more cleanly. His face isn’t quite as pale and his arms don’t look as painfully twig-like. His face is fuller and his eyes are softened, still a little morose.

 

“He came with me,” Piper raises her hand guiltily, “I thought we could bring friends!”

 

Percy frowns, “Hazel, what’s wrong?”

 

“Okay,” Hazel throws her hands up, “Everyone _out_ of the kitchen.”

 

Nico rolls his eyes, “Hazel, you don’t have to do that. I- it’s – we’re fine, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Leo agrees simply.

 

The tension in the room is so thick that Percy awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “Um, I think I’m gonna, go find Annabeth or something.”

 

Almost immediately, Jason and Piper also file out of the room, under the presumption of dancing. Hazel talks to Nico while she side-eyes Leo, “Are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to-”

 

“Hazel, I’m okay,” Nico reassures her, subconsciously tucking his hair back behind his ears.

 

“Are you sure? Are you ready for, y’know, this?”

 

Nico coughs, “Probably not. But, I mean, after this morning, I’ve learned to just deal. I’ll be okay, Hazel.”

 

Hazel nods before walking out of the kitchen too. The fast paced pop song is blaring throughout the house but both boys try to tune it out.

 

It’s just them.

 

The last time they were alone together, Leo’d been pulling him out of an icy lake.

 

The last time they alone together _consciously,_ they’d been in Nico’s bedroom.

 

Better memory.

 

“So-” Leo begins at the same time that Nico says, “Um-”

 

“No, you go ahead,” Leo shakes his head, looking down at the countertop.

 

Nico’s eyes are glued to the ceiling, “No, no, it’s, um, it’s okay.”

 

Silence. The music may be blasting but Leo feels like he’s miles away from any New Year’s Party. Part of him wishes he never stepped through these doors. Because this is so _stilted,_ and _awkward,_ and _not them._

But he isn’t sure what ‘they’ are anymore, anyway.

 

Leo coughs, “The weather’s cleared up a little.”

 

“Yeah, it stopped snowing as much. Not as cold,” Nico’s still avoiding Leo’s eyes. Looking at him directly in the eyes when people are around is one thing. But when they’re alone? He’s not sure _what_ would happen.

 

“Yeah,” Leo trails off. He pours himself a glass of champagne because his face feels really warm and he really wants to get out of that kitchen. “Um, you want some?”

 

“Can’t,” Nico holds up his own glass of sparkling cider.

 

“’Cause you’re underage? Never stopped you before,” Leo cracks a small smile.

 

“Meds,” Nico shakes his head, watching the bubbles pop in his drink.

 

Leo nods once, “Oh, right.” He takes a sip from his glass, “How, um, how did that work- is that working out- um, I mean, how are you-”

 

“Therapy a couple times a week and gross pills,” Nico shrugs, not really embarrassed. It’s just a fact. “Persephone, she’s, wow, she’s different now.”

 

“We all are,” Leo can’t help but say. He winces immediately, knowing how it could come across, but Nico just smiles to himself.

 

Looking up at Leo, he replies, “Yeah, we are.”

 

Leo looks at Nico for a moment, considering, “You look, um, good.” And he feels a little guilty for some reason. Because he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there to see Nico _become_ good, stronger, more healed. Even if Leo couldn’t have done anything, really, he should have been there. He’d missed it. He fucking ran and he missed it.

 

“Thanks,” Nico answers. If he’d held any resentment toward Leo, the latter can’t tell. “So do you. Your hair’s curlier than ever.”

 

“So’s yours!” Leo counters, “It’s sticking up like-”

 

“Like what?” Nico immediately pats down the top of his head and it looks kind of adorable. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

Leo shakes his head and puts his glass down, “Nothing. I just- you’re different, that’s all.”

 

Nico mumbles, “I thought we established that already.”

 

They don’t say much more for a little bit. Nico is still fidgeting and Leo can only look at Nico’s large eyes for a few seconds before dropping his gaze in embarrassment.

 

“Um,” Nico scratches the back of his neck, “I think I need to get some more, um, fruit punch or something.” He flashes a fleeting smile at Leo before disappearing from the room and Leo’s frown deepens.

 

Nico pushes past the crowd of people in their living room and he really wishes the music wasn’t his loud and there weren’t all these people here anymore because he just wants to rip off these stupid clothes and put on his pajamas and eat strawberry ice cream in his room. He dodges past three of Hazel’s friends, who try and talk to him, and a guy who pre-gamed way too hard. He feels his chest tighten and he feels like crying for some stupid reason he can’t really understand.

 

He finally pushes the door open into his room and his hands grope the room for his journal and pen because he really needs to write this out. But his journal isn’t on his dresser stand and Nico’s breaths are becoming shorter and he remembers taking his meds at the allotted hours, but maybe this is all too much anyway. And he can’t call Dr. Apollo on New Year’s Eve because that’s just cruel. And he can’t find his journal and he needs to find his journal because all of these thoughts are tumbling in his head like scattered rain droplets.

 

Nico blinks the forming tears out of his eyes as he scours his room, pushing around pillows and blankets to find the black and white composition journal. He finds his stash of letters and automatically shoves one into his pocket. He feels warm, so he tears the buttons off of his Polo. But where is his journal. He can’t find his journal.

 

He stumbles out of his room and for a second, he forgets that there still is a party going on. The loud, slightly inebriated cheers of young people sound like metallic, clanging bells. He takes a deep breath for seven counts. But his brain is working at hyper speed and he can’t focus on the good memories right now.

 

“Hazel!” He cries out over the music, “Hazel!”

 

A guy in a red snapback tries to dance with him, but Nico slithers away. There’s a lot of people. There’s too many people. He pushes through the crowd to where he can spot the tip of Hazel’s curly hair. “Hazel!”

 

Seven seconds in.

 

Eleven seconds out.

 

Hazel spots Nico and her eyes widen.

 

She stops talking to that red-headed girl and pushes through the crowd to find her brother. “I’m coming! Hold on.”

 

And Nico really doesn’t understand _why_ feels so upset but he can’t control the further tightening of his chest and the way his face feels splotchy or how his throat feels like it’s getting choked up and he’s trying to breathe and it’s not working and he took his pills and it’s not working and he doesn’t want to be bad again, he really doesn’t want to go back there because he was getting better, he _is_ getting better and he doesn’t understand why he wants to cry so much right now because it was just one awkward interaction but Leo doesn’t look at him the same and he doesn’t look at him at all, really, and they’re not the same anymore and maybe he had this stupid fantasy that when they’d see each other again it would be pretty roses and snowflakes but it feels more like Venus Flytraps and hailstones and-

 

“Hey, hey,” Hazel’s voice reaches to him, “Nico, what’s wrong?”

 

“My journal, I need my journal! I think I left it out here earlier and I can’t find it and I need to find it,” Nico manages to sputter out.

 

Hazel frowns, “Nico, I don’t know where your journal is. I- I’m sorry. Um, maybe if you ask-”

 

“No, no,” Nico closes his eyes, “Y-you, you were, I need-”

 

Then a familiar voice reaches his ears. The voice on the telephone is real and its beside him right now. “Hey, Nico, are you alright? What’s going on?”

 

A few of the other party guests start to notice that something not-right is happening because a small crowd starts to gather. Hazel looks at Leo desperately, “Get him to his room. I’ll get rid of everyone.”

 

Nico murmurs, “No, no, you don’t have to do that. I-I’ll be fine. I promise.”

 

“I’m sorry, Nico,” Hazel cups his chin in her hand, “I’m so sorry.”

 

Leo wraps his arm around Nico’s shoulder and leads the other boy to down the hall. “Which room is yours?”

 

“That one,” Nico points, a little weakly. He’s capable of walking on his own, but he likes the feeling of Leo’s arm around his body so he doesn’t say anything. Leo presses in the door with his foot and flicks on the switch, flooding the room with light. Wordlessly, he sets Nico onto his bed and lets his arm fall to the small of Nico’s back.

 

“Nico, how are you, really?”

 

Nico pauses, “I’m better than before.” He leaves it at that as he stares off into the corner.

 

Leo nods but his guilt keeps eating at him because Nico isn’t as comfortable around him anymore, and although he knows that it was _probably_ for the best, he hates the feeling he gets in his chest.

 

Moments later, Hazel crashes into Nico’s room. The background noise has dropped considerably. “They’re all leaving. I mean, Persephone’s a little pissed that people trashed her living room and she’s still sober enough to care but other than that, it’s all fine. Frank’s helping her clean up. I can’t find your journal, Nico.”

 

“It’s okay,” Nico buries his face in his hands, “It passed.”

 

Leo looks at Hazel with an eyebrow raised but she doesn’t elaborate. “It passed? Well, then that’s good, right?”

 

Nico shakes his head in his hands, “I ruined everything and it _passed_. I ruined your party and I- I just feel tired.”

 

Hazel rolls her eyes, “Nico, you didn’t ruin anything. I didn’t even care about this party that much.”

 

“Do you want to sleep?” Leo asks, and Nico half-jumps.

 

Nico lifts his head and mumbles, “No. But I think I need a bath.”

 

Leo smiles fondly at that as Nico stands up. Nico doesn’t look at Leo as he grabs his green towel and escapes toward the bathroom. Hazel closes the door and plops herself beside Leo on his bed.

 

They don’t talk right away. They can hear the chatterings of the last of their guests leave the party. It’s only 11:00 but it feels so much later than that. They can hear the faucets from the bathroom down the hall. Leo doesn’t say anything until a good twenty minutes after they hear the tub water turn off and the classical music start playing.

 

“How is he, Hazel?” Leo looks miserably at his hands.

 

Hazel plays with her fingers, “He’s healing. He’s a mess some days but as of late, he’s better. He goes through this a lot. And he always bathes afterwards. It’s weird but he really likes Persephone’s bubble baths and classical music CDs.”

 

“What do you mean he goes through this a lot?”

 

“He’ll be really good for a while, a couple of days – maybe a week – but he’ll get these intense, short periods of dysphoria and that’s when he writes the most in his journal,” Hazel sighs, “Or sometimes it’ll just pass and he feels pretty crummy because he thinks he’s making a big deal out of nothing but he’s not. I mean, he’s learning to express himself a little more but he’s not all the way there yet.”

 

They sit in silence in Nico’s room while Leo looks around. There are doodles and drawings hung on the walls and mirrors. There are quickly sketched portraits of Hazel and Persephone and two other women who show up a lot. Leo presumes they are Nico’s mother and sister. He’s surprised to see a couple of him interspersed throughout the room as well. Nico’s drawings aren’t the works of da Vinci, but they aren’t terrible either. He sees some books piled on the dresser.

 

 

 

 

 

“I should’ve been here,” Leo closes his eyes, “I mean, I think it was right of me to stay away, right?”

 

“I think,” Hazel begins slowly, “That you were right to stay away at first. But you shouldn’t have sprang him like that, today. I mean, really, what were you thinking?”

 

“Well, at least I didn’t throw him a party. What were _you_ thinking?” Leo crosses his arms.

 

It’s a low-blow and Leo immediately starts to apologize but Hazel waves her hand, “No, no. I think we all just need to learn how to be around each other again. I thought tonight would help but…” she trails off.

 

Leo gives her a crooked grin, “It did help. Well, it got me here. That’s something, right?”

 

Hazel laughs, “As if. It wasn’t supposed to! I don’t mean to sound harsh, but today was not the best day to see him again.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, Sef told me that he basically made his peace with Bianca and his mother this morning. And then he just found out that you were the one who pulled him out of the ice and so I think he’s been a bit on edge all day and then this stupid party-”

 

“It’s not stupid,” Leo shakes his head, “You meant well. Shit, I had no idea that today, of all days, I mean, I wouldn’t have-”

 

“I know,” Hazel sighs, affectionately resting her cheek against his hind arm, “This is a learning process for all of us. I just- I just worry about him.”

 

“Nico’s going to be okay,” Leo says resolutely, “I mean, I haven’t seen him for very long. But he’s different. He’s more vulnerable and yet that makes him stronger. I really think he’s going to make it. I think he’s going to be okay. And I, I want to be there with him when that happens, if he wants me there.”

 

“When did you get so- different? That’s not the word I want to use-”

 

Leo knows she’s joking but he can’t bring himself to laugh. Instead, he stares at the crevices in his hands, “Life’s really short. You gotta spend it with people who matter so you’ll always remember them.”

 

Hazel knits her eyebrows, “Leo-”

 

“Anyways,” he begins to stand up, “I’d better go before Nico gets back here. If we’re taking baby steps at whatever the hell this is – I dunno, I think I’d better leave. Let him, you know, rest and stuff.”

 

“But-”

 

“You were right,” Leo goes on, “It wasn’t smart of me to come here earlier. I’ll see you soon, Hazel.”

 

Hazel sighs, “I think you’re actually right. It’s not a personal thing, Leo, it’s just – well, today’s been pretty rough.”

 

Leo smiles, if not a little sadly, “I know. I’ll see you, Hazel. Tell Nico I said goodnight, okay?”

 

Hazel wraps her arms around Leo and pats his cheek, “Take care of yourself, alright?”

 

Leo swallows as he untangles herself from her, “You too.” He closes Nico’s bedroom door behind him. He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales. With a sigh he heads toward the front door as he wishes he remembers where he put his jacket. And then the hairs on his neck stand up.

 

A voice from the edge of the foyer is trembling but resilient, “So you were just going to leave? Again?”

 

Leo turns around. He wants to laugh because of the sight of the younger boy with sopping wet hair and Christmas socks. But then he sees Nico’s expression, blazing but also determined. “Nico-”

 

“I need to talk to you,” his voice is firm as he steps toward Leo. “I had some time to think and I wrote you this,” he pulls his letter from the back of his pajamas, “and I need you to read it.”

 

“Nico, I don’t wanna read a letter. I want to hear _you_.”

 

“Fine, then,” Nico rips the envelope open, “I’ll read it to you.”

 

“Nico-”

 

“No, Leo,” Nico frowns, “I need- I need to do this.” His hands are shaking as he unfolds the stack of papers. “Please.”

 

Leo breathes out, “Okay. Let’s talk.”


	23. You Are the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

Nico’s voice feels thicker than maple syrup. His hands are still shaking as he holds the paper in front of his eyes. His lips feel as dry and chapped as they do when he stands outside in the bitter cold. His eyes move across the page but his mouth can’t move.

 

“Nico?” Leo prompts him. “Hey, are you-”

 

“M’fine,” Nico murmurs. “Just give me a second.”

 

The letters in the words on the page are out of order and they’re floating around meaningless space. His vision is clouding and his face feels uncomfortable warm and part of him wants to back out of this but a stronger part of him knows he needs to blaze forward. He forces his eyes to concentrate, forming the words he knows should be there. He forces his mouth to move, his voice to speak. His eyes are glued to the paper in front of him as he reads, “I- I want you, to know, um, shit,” he has to trace the line steady with his finger so he can read it correctly. “I want you to know that I, um, I don’t need you,” and he prays his voice doesn’t sound so wobbly and accusatory, “that I don’t _need_ anyone else to, um,” he loses his place on the paper and it take him a second to find it.

 

“Hey,” Leo places a warm hand on his shoulder and Nico jerks upward. Leo’s eyes aren’t mad, but they’re confused. “Hey, it’s me. It’s _just_ me. You’re very strong to talk to me right now, so you don’t need to worry. Just talk. Just talk to me.”

 

Nico’s basically memorized the letter in his head (it took him so many drafts to get it perfect, of _course_ he memorized it). He swallows and shudders as he lets a breath out. And he really doesn’t know why he’s letting himself get so nervous. And he remembers burnt pancakes and snow and iHop and showers and rock stations and old books and stupid jokes and sleeping over and he feels the tension roll off of him. He can’t look directly into Leo’s eyes, so he focuses on a little curl in Leo’s hair that hangs down into the middle of his forehead and speaks. “I don’t _need_ you. Um, I thought I did, before. I thought _a lot_ of things, before. But, I thought that somehow I needed you to fix me or something? That somehow you could save me from myself, I guess.”

 

Nico takes a breath because even if he isn’t as nervous, this is still harder to say out loud than it is to write down. Saying the words makes them true – makes them real. He wishes he had a bottle of water right now to soothe his drying throat but he doesn’t. Licking his lips, he continues, “When I called that night, that first time, I was so scared and I was so alone, b-but you were there. And it wasn’t anything you did wrong, per se, but- I mean, it wasn’t anything I did wrong either. ‘Cause I was sick and I’m still sick but I’m getting better. I am. I want you to know that I’m not blaming you for anything. I’m not blaming anyone. I mean, I’m taking accountability but, I was in a dark place before. And you were there for me. And I liked that. I _wanted_ that. But I think I let that get confused with me _needing_ that. ‘Cause I am who I am and I have what I have. And I’m getting help for that. But I also need to know, well, I’m realizing that I’m strong by myself, too. And that I can save myself.”

 

He wrings his fingers together and lets the developing tears fall where they may. “Because I’m strong enough to save myself. I am and I’m getting stronger. But sometimes it’s nice, too, to y’know, have someone there for you too. Because sometimes you need a little support and it’s okay to rely on other people too. But, I guess what I’m saying is, I need to rely on myself first, because I can, now. So, I’m sorry for thinking that I needed you to complete me or fix me or something. And I’m sorry for what I might have might have put you through. And I want you to know and understand why you must have stayed away after I-”

 

And the words are sort of stuck in Nico’s throat. He blinks hard and exhales because he _has_ to say it. It happened and it’s the truth so he has to say it. “after I tried to kill myself. A-and part of me is glad that you did, you know? Because I had to do a lot of thinking about stuff. About, y’know, us and me and what this all means. And I think I would’ve been more confused if you were there. But I did miss you – a lot. ‘Cause you were just gone. A-and I was sure I’d scared you off or something, like I was some sort of weird, depressed freak-”

 

“Nico, I-”

 

Nico raises a hand, “Let me finish. I, just, you were gone. And it didn’t matter if deep down, I really believed that I scared you off or anything like that. ‘Cause, like I said, it was a good thing, I think. Because I had a lot of time to think.” He takes a breath and sniffles, “Hazel told me today that you were the one who pulled me from the ice. And I never knew that before. And I think that puts things in perspective, a little? ‘Cause you saved me, physically, when I couldn’t, when I wasn’t saved up here,” he taps his head. “’Cause only _I_ can save myself up here. And I just wanted to say thank you, for not, for not just giving up.”

 

Nico half-laughs, “Sorry, I’m a mess right now. Um, but, I think that’s,” he glances over the letter to see if he missed anything important, “I guess, what I’m trying to say is, yeah, I don’t _need_ you. But, I _want_ you. I like listening to you babble about stupid parts of cars that I don’t understand and making me breakfast and I can’t think of anything else right now. It’s nice to feel like someone is there for you. Even if they can’t stop your tears from falling, they can wipe them away and just hold you ‘till it stops, you know? Just, just _being_ there should be enough. And it _is_ enough and that’s all I can ask for. It’s all that you- er, anyone else can _give_ me. It’s okay to want that. And it’s okay to like that and want that. But there’s also nothing wrong with just being by myself, too. And I don’t know what this means or where this leaves us or if I’m making any sense or anything. But, I, I just missed you. A-and I get if you moved on already or if you’re seeing someone else or something. A-and I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, too.” He breathes out and even though he feels the tears on his face, he smiles. He did it. He said it. With a watery smile, he manages to look up into Leo’s eyes, but notices they’re downcast and a bit red, too, “That’s it.”

 

Leo looks contemplative, like he’s taking it all in.

 

Nico scratches his ear, “I – you don’t have to say anything right now. I just- I just needed you to know that.”

 

Leo nods, still not saying anything. No words seem to fit the situation. He can’t just murmur, “I miss you, too,” or say “Oh, I understand.” No words make sense. But, he _hears_ him. And he needs to make sure Nico gets that. So, he looks into Nico’s dark eyes, and he chokes out, “Okay. I hear you, I do. And I’ll be here, if that’s you want. Whatever you want from me. Whatever you want from this – us.”

 

The brazened, determined look in Leo’s eyes catch Nico off guard and for a second, he loses his breath. He can’t place this feeling and it’s a little uncomfortable, but he thinks he likes it. And before Nico can register what he’s doing, his arms are reaching and Leo’s stepping forward and Nico’s chin fits perfectly in the crevice between Leo’s neck and shoulder. And Leo’s arms are wrapped so tightly around Nico and they’re both crying unabashedly, but it feels good. It feels so natural. He can _feel_ him again. And the words that Leo can’t articulate right now are being expressed through the way his thumb is making circles in the small of Nico’s back and the way he’s breathing right now. Nico shudders a little, but a smile graces his features. He lets his eyes flutter shut.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even though Nico is sure he could stand there for hours, eventually, they have to break away from each other because it’s about twenty minutes to midnight and he’s certain that Hazel, Frank and Persephone are itching to come out into the living room again. So he slowly lets his arms fall, letting his fingers linger as they detach from Leo’s arms. Leo lets out a breathy half-laugh as he wipes his eyes, “Crying makes me hungry.”

 

Nico discreetly wipes his nose as he chuckles, “We’ve got pigs-in-a-blanket in the kitchen somewhere, I think. Oh, and there’s cold pizza in the fridge.”

 

“Cold pizza is the best pizza,” Leo notes as he follows Nico in the kitchen area, “So, this is, uh, Persephone’s house, right? Nice socks, by the way.”

 

Nico sniffles away the remaining gunk in his face, “Thanks. Christmas present. And, yeah, this is her house. But, y’know, I’m making it home and everything. Probably gonna staying here for a while.”

 

“How’d that work?” Leo wonders as he leans onto the counter.

 

Nico isn’t facing him as he pulls the door to the refrigerator open, “She, uh, she changed a lot, actually. Apparently, tragedy _can_ bring people back together. I mean, I guess she just didn’t understand how serious it all was before. Anyways, yeah, she’s been great. Same with my Hazel.”

 

“I’m really happy for you,” Leo says earnestly as Nico pulls out a large, zipped plastic baggie.

 

“Thank you. I am, too,” Nico blushes just the tiniest bit, “Um, veggie pizza or buffalo chicken?”

 

“Buffalo chicken,” Leo answers easily, “Always spicy.”

 

“Knew it,” Nico rolls his eyes, but he’s being playful as he slides Leo the paper plate with two slices of buffalo chicken on it. He places two veggie pizza slices on his own plate and hops on the counter. “So, uh, how’ve you been?”

 

Leo shrugs as he bites into the chewy pizza, “I’ve – let’s just say I’m ready for the new year.”

 

Nico frowns, “What happened? Is it- y’know, your grandmother?”

 

Leo’s gaze drops, “Yeah, she’s just,” he glances up at Nico’s concerned eyes, “she’s in a home right now and I, uh, lost one of my jobs. I think I’ll actually need to sell my house. I mean, it’s just me living there anyway.” He shakes his head, “But, I mean, aside from the heavy, I _did_ watch every episode of General Hospital within two weeks.”

 

“Wait, sell your house? Leo, where are you going to-”

 

“I’ll figure it out, I promise, I _promise_ ,” Leo offers a small smile, “Don’t worry. I’ll find some apartment.”

 

Nico’s eyes light up, “I can sell you, or lease you or whatever, mine! If I’m living here, I don’t need the other one.”

 

“Nico, I-”

 

“No, Leo, you have to,” Nico asserts. Because even if Leo isn’t saying it, he has a strong suspicion that there’s more to his grandmother than he’s leading on. Plus, he strongly suspects that Leo lost his job at the Crisis Center and that he is _certain_ is his fault. “I mean, if you want.”

 

“Okay,” Leo agrees half-heartedly, mostly so they stop talking about him, “I’ll think about it.”

 

Satisfied, Nico takes a bit of pizza and Leo muses at the sauce that now sits proudly on the tip of Nico’s nose.

 

“Boys! Come on! It’s almost midnight!” Hazel cries from the living room. Leo shovels the remaining bite of pizza into his mouth before following Nico into the living room. But, he feels inexplicably content.

 

Hazel is laughing about something Frank said and Frank is raising the volume on the television and Persephone is pouring a little champagne into her glass when the two climb onto the edge of the couch.

 

And it all feels so right.

 

“Only five minutes left until midnight, folks,” the announcer on the television is babbling and Nico feels his toes curl up.

 

Then, the doorbell rings amidst the noise and Persephone stands up with a groan. Hazel makes a face sympathetically, “I bet you anything it was someone who forgot their hat or something.”

 

“But, why would they come five minutes before midnight for a hat?” Frank raises an eyebrow as Persephone makes her way to the door. From where they are sitting on the couch, they won’t be able to see the person at the door but they can hear it.

 

Persephone sighs, “I hope it’s someone handsome. They say if someone tall, dark, and handsome comes to your door on New Year’s, and I’m counting New Year’s Eve, too, then it’s supposed to be a good year.” She winks at Nico and raises her brows before reaching the foyer.

 

Leo just laughs, “Well, I don’t know about _tall,_ but I am handsome.”

 

Nico rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Leo’s face away. Superstitions aside, however, he can feel it, it _is_ gonna be a good year. He glances at Hazel and Frank, cuddled on the couch. He sees the back of Persephone’s figure. And he notices the boy beside him on the couch.

 

It had been a trying year, he realizes, for all of them. They were a weird, hodge-podge of people but they all worked. These people, these people that he loved and loved him were his foundation. They were his rock. They were his earth. And now he could grow and live and just be.

 

His hand lies on top of Leo’s – not necessarily romantically and not necessarily platonically. It just is. Leo glances down at their hands for a second but he doesn’t question it.

 

It is going to be good year.

 

But Persephone slams the door before returning to the living room. Nico knits his eyebrows, because he wants to ask, “Who was that, Sef?” But his stomach is already sinking and the hairs on the back of his neck are rising. Because he’s pretty sure he knows.

 

Instead, he just looks at her, his eyes asking the question his lips won’t. She merely nods as she opens the bottle of champagne and drinks straight from it.

 

“1 Minute Left!” Frank cheers, and they all stand up from the couches.

 

“What’s wrong?” Leo murmurs as the countdown goes on.

 

Nico sighs, “Daddy dearest,” as the people on the TV get to ‘30’.

 

But, to his surprise, he doesn’t feel as angry as he thinks he would.

 

Because he was right about what he said earlier, he _is_ stronger.

 

He’ll be okay. He has his earth. He has his family.

 

“10!”

 

Frank is getting confetti ready.

 

“9!”

 

Hazel can sense the tension in the room, so she shoots Nico a smile.

 

“8!”

 

Persephone’s anger seems to have subsided.

 

“7!”

 

Because now she’s laughing as Hazel takes snapshots of she and Frank.

 

“6!”

 

And so Nico’s not lying as he adds, “But, I’m going to be fine.”

 

“5!”

 

“Okay,” Leo nods, “If you’re sure.”

 

“4!”

 

Nico nods as Leo offers him the rest of his sparkling cider.

 

“3!”

 

Because he is.

 

“2!”

 

He’s going to be just fine.

 

“1!”

 

The clock strikes midnight.

 

And thus, begins another year.


	24. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o.o  
> It's wrapping up  
> ::'(   
> maybe that's why it's taking me so long to write these  
> I don't want this story to end

 

“So,” Dr. Apollo begins after a lull in their conversation, “How do you feel about that? About the situation?”

 

Nico crosses his socked feet on the couch. He furrows his brow as his lips part slightly - ready to speak. He wants to lie. He wants to say that he feels great and this will all be great, but in truth, he doesn’t know. “I’m not sure,” he croaks out eventually,

 

“What are you unsure about, Nico?”

 

HE sighs, “I don’t know. I guess part of me is really - okay, most of me is really happy. But then part of me is, like, confused because he was gone for so long and I think I feel the same but I’m in a different place now? Things are so different now. And I don’t even know if we are a thing anymore.”

 

“Why don’t you talk to him about these things?” Dr. Apollo blinks, voice steady.

Nico makes a face like he’s constipated, “No. It’s weird.”

 

“Why is it weird?”

 

“I mean, we already had our dramatic emotional schist-thing last week on New Years,” Nico explains, feeling warm, “But this is more, I don’t know, romantic and feelings about each other and - it’d just be weird.”

 

Dr. Apollo cracks a small smile, “Well, most relationships stem from friendships. And friendships usually entail talking to each other.”

 

“I know,” Nico groans as he leans back on the couch. His eyes are focused on the ceiling to avoid Dr. Apollo’s caring eyes. “Talking about feelings to you is one thing. And, like, talking about my emotions about myself is one thing. But like, talking about, like, dating and kiss- I mean, romantic stuff. It’s just weird.”

 

“Do you think you’re ready to date again, Nico?”

 

“Probably not,” he mutters, “No. I don’t know. I wish? Well, what do you mean by dating?”

 

“What do you think I mean?”

 

Nico rolls his eyes at Dr. Apollo’s weird questions. “Like, y’know, kissing and stuff and holding hands and hanging out and stuff,” he spits out. He looks thoughtful, but also a little nauseous.

 

“Sp would you like to do these things again?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Nico furrows his brow, “Wait, are you saying I should? I mean, we haven’t seen each other in awhile.”

 

“So maybe dating entails more than just kissing and holding hands?” Dr. Apollo suggests, eyebrows raised.

 

“Okay,” Nico begins after a few minutes of consideration, “So maybe it’s supporting people, too. Like with feelings. Ane being able to listen to the other person and help them when they need it. And always be there for them. Like all the time.”

 

“So, is that so much different from being a friend?”

 

“Well, I guess not,” Nico’s frown deepens, “I mean, well obviously no kissing and stuff. But I think that if you’re dating someone, then you’re expected to, like, be there for them more? So, there’s a bigger responsibility to be there for someone emotionally. And with a friend, you still need to be there for y someone but I think there’s less pressure, maybe?”

 

Dr. Apollo nods gravely, “That’s a very interesting point, Nico. So, do you think you’re ready for a relationship right now?”

 

Nico shakes his head, “I don’t think I am. ‘Cause I’m supposed to be focused on me right now and I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to be there for someone else, too.” He lets out a strangled noise, “Does that make me a bad person?”

 

“No, Nico,” Dr. Apollo resists the urge to chuckle, “It’s perfectly natural. But now you see why, correct? It’s not some restriction that counsellors and doctors impose on people. It’s because of what you said and now you understand. You need to work on you.”

 

Nico sits up and the blood rushes from his head. He is a bit disoriented as Dr. Apollo’s face comes into view, “Yeah. But I can still, like, be friends, right?”

 

“Of course, Nico. Friends are good.”

 

“Great,” Nico adds wryly.

 

*******

 

Leo is definitely not nervous as he rides in the elevator to Jupiter and Zeus Legal Offices,

 

“Dude,” Jason begins, “Calm down. It’s my dad. The same guy who drunkenly belts ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ on July 4th. No reason to be worried.”

 

“It’s not your dad I’m worried about,” Leo murmurs. The elevator dings and the two young men walk into the world of corporate and real estate attorneys. They are both clad in suits. Leo’s is baggy on him because it actually is one of Jason’s old suits. It is grey and ill-fitted. Beneath that, he has a light purple shirt and black tie. He is wearing scuffed, black shoes and he even tried to shape his unruly curls. Overall, he looks more put-together than usual. He fidgets with his cuffs as Jason leads him to his father’s office.

 

He knocks briefly before pressing the frosted, glass door open, “Father?”

 

“Jason,” his dad says severely as he peers out over his glasses, “I do not believe my secretary alerted me of your visit today.”

 

“Yeah,” Jason coughs, “Sorry. Um, but I have a client for you, sir.”

 

Zeus regards Leo coolly after he finishes signing some papers. “As an intern, it is not your duty to find me clients. We have a prestigious firm here and cannot go running after every petty case.” Leo frowns as Zeus sighs, “But, I am feeling uncharacteristically generous today so I suppose I shall take it on. Sit down.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Leo smirks as he sits down in one of the cushy, yellow chairs. He’s scared to his wits of Jason’s father but he does well to hide it.

 

“Now, Mr. Valdez, how can I help you today?”

 

“I want to sell my house by myself. Only thing is, I need your help.”

 

****************

 

“You should look into more projects and activities, Nico,” Dr. Apollo says as they walk down the hallway to the waiting room.

 

Nico snorts, “Like what, therapeutic painting?”

 

“Maybe,” Dr. Apollo shrugs, “If you think it would help. Just don’t just sit around your house all day. You need to keep your mind and body active as well in order to combat this. What are you into?”

 

“I don’t know,” Nico lies, “I’ll figure it out eventually, though, right?”

 

“Sure,” Dr. Apollo stops as they reach the waiting room, “Just promise me you’ll start an activity this week.”

 

“Okay, fine,” Nico huffs out, “New year. New activity.”

 

Dr. Apollo beams as he claps Nico on the shoulder, “Nice job, little man. I’ll see you next week.”

 

Nico groans at his new nickname and finds Hazel waiting for him. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, despite the weather, and a pristine, white, peacoat. Her curly hair is braided over her shoulder and she seems to be rather taken by the book she is reading. Nico wanders over to her seat and coughs to get her attention. She looks a little embarrassed as she shoves the book into her quilted bag. “So, how’d it g

 

Nico tries not to blush as he scratches the back of his neck, “Um, pretty good. We talked about...a lot of stuff.”

 

“Nice, nice,” Hazel comments as she follows him into the elevator. “So, what time are we meeting Leo for lunch?”

 

“12:15,” Nico answers before Hazel even finishes the question, “At Steaks n Cakes.”

 

“Why does that boy love breakfast food so much?’ Hazel makes a face.

 

Nico smiles fondly, “It’s the only place where you can freely order a T-Bone Steak with a side of buttermilk pancakes. It’s heaven.”

 

“Gross,” Hazel shakes her head as they exit the building and head three blocks down. The wind is heavy, but thankfully pushes them toward their destination. The air is frigid and feels like sharp blades on their skin. They can taste the cold in their tongues and smell it in their noses.

 

“I hate winter!” Hazel cries as tears from the wind stream down her face.If Nico’s face didn’t feel so frozen, he would have responded. Instead he lets his sister hook their arms as they maze through the clumps of people in parkas and fur. Finally, they burst into the small diner-like restaurant. It’s well-lit and the sun is shining beautifully, despite the awful weather, so they grab a table near the windows. A waitress spots them, as they blow deeply into their hands, and strides toward the table.

 

Her tone is long and bored as she drawls, “Welcometo Steak n Cakes. No, we don’t actually sell fluffly, sugary cakes. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  
  


Hazel nods, “We’re waiting for one more. Two waters and, uh,” she glances at Nico, “what does he drink?”

 

“Ginger ale and squeeze extra lemons into it,” Nico responds automatically, surprising himself.

 

The waitress scribbles down their orders before scowling and retreating into the kitchens. “Cute,” Hazel responds as she opens her menu.

 

Nico tries to ignore her but he can feel his face becoming pinker by the second.

 

“Well,” comes a booming voice about ten minutes later, “If it isn’t my favorite ex-coworker and, um, well Nico.”

 

“Nice to see you too,” Nico rolls his eyes affectionately. Leo blinks for a moment, deciding which side of the booth to sit in. If he sits with Hazel, it definitely comes across as three platonic friends out for lunch. But then again, there isn’t anything inherently wrong with sitting beside Nico. It’s just lunch. Plus, he’ll be less likely to get lost looking directly at Nico’s eyes from across the table. He slides in beside Nico easily and drums his fingers on the table.

 

“Nico ordered you something to drink,” Hazel pipes up to cut the tension, “Ginger ale and lemons.”

 

“Perfect,” Leo’s eyes widen as he glances to Nico. He licks his lip as the other boy keeps his eyes trained on the menu in front of him. Nico is working hard to keep Dr. Apollo’s advice and wisdom in his head. But he can’t help the way he feels when he is around Leo. He can’t help the fact that his heart starts thumping harder than the pounding of hooves on a racetrack when he sees Leo with a loose, black tie, unbuttoned purple shirt and grey pants - sexy and sophisticated at the same time. Because he is just a teenager at the end of the day.

 

“Helllloooooo,” he hears Leo’s voice directly in his ear, “Earth to space cadet, Nico. Do you copy>”

 

Nico laughs softly, peering at Leo, “What?”

 

“Miss waitress just asked you for your order,” Leo smirks. There isn’t anything but mirth in his tone.

 

“Sorry,” Nico shakes his head, “Um, can I get a New York Strip with eggs and bacon please?”

 

The waitress scrawls his order down before huffing and disappearing once more. Leo laughs again, “What’s on your mind there?”

 

“N-not much,” Nico shrugs, “Just thinking about my session.”

 

“Ah,” Leo fiddles with a napkin, “How are those?”

 

“Pretty good, actually,” Nico twirls his straw in his water, “Apparently I need more extra-curricular activities. And I need to figure out what I’m doing with my school and college and what I want in life.”

 

“I hear that,” Leo nods, “I’ve been working on selling but I also need to study because I have that GED test or whatever coming up. It’s hell.”

 

Hazel nods, “When did life get so...hard?”

 

And none of them say anything for a while. Her question is obviously rhetorical, yet they all seem to ponder it. Because just yesterday, they were children on the swingset who merely worried about what color chalk to buy for the driveway. And yet now, they were expected to live in a world meant for adults. It really wasn’t fair.

 

And yet, within the cruelty of life, sprigs of hope and love are born when she sees the fact that her brother and her friend mirror each other. That Leo doesn’t take his eyes of Nico while the boy is talking. That Nico subtly, unconsciously, adjusts his shoulders so that they face Leo. That she can see the proximity of their pinky fingers on the cushion of the booth. That their knees are just brushing each other and she can basically smell the pheromones in the air (quite frankly, it’s disgusting) but it’s also comforting. Even in such a dark, cruel world, there can be a brilliant light which conquers all.

  
  



End file.
